


Stormy Night High

by Dott



Category: Monster High
Genre: Alternate Universe, Mentions of gore/blood, Multi, Slight body horror (but really it's just Frankie stuff), boarding school of horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2018-08-12 02:37:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 27,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7917139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dott/pseuds/Dott
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frankie Stein, along with her fellow students, was born (rather, built) to die. There is no other way. This is why monsters exist.</p><p>But Frankie has never been one to stick to the status quo, has she?</p><p>~~~</p><p>Or, a concept swap with Ever After High, exploring how the Monster High universe would work if the students had to follow the destinies of their parents. In other words, be killed at the hands of heroes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [locktobre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/locktobre/gifts).



> This AU is locktobre's idea, she has just given me the permission to write it. Thank you so much, Mel; talking about this with you has been a blast!

Frankie Stein’s first sixteen days of life were not at all what she had expected.

She was currently in the backseat of a drab-looking car, her energy running seriously low. She wouldn’t be able to charge until she got to her dorm; she had asked several times to make a pit stop, but the two drivers in the front seat, a man and a woman similar in build, brushed her off.

She looked out the window, and all she saw was trees barren of leaves. She knew from the information that had been loaded into her brain that this was what happened during winter. She couldn’t help but be a little disappointed she hadn’t been brought to life in the middle of spring, or maybe even autumn.

This was her first glimpse of the outside world; her previous fifteen days had been spent strapped to a lab table in a white room lit by blinding fluorescent lights, with wires attached to her in several different places. All of them had a different purpose; some were charging her, some were giving her a basic knowledge of the way the world worked, and she wasn’t sure what some of the others did. But now she knew about the water cycle and the food chain and the properties of electricity because of it

These things were all interesting, but nothing piqued her curiosity more than Stormy Night High.

Her creator (father? Frankie wasn’t sure what to call him) hadn’t spent very much time with her, since he was separated from her by other humans soon after her awakening, but the one conversation she had with him involved the place she would be going.  

He said to her in a rushed voice that Stormy Night High was a boarding school for people with extraordinary powers and traits. He had made such an emphasis on the “extraordinary” part. The last thing he did before he had to leave was grab her by the shoulders and tell her to never forget she was extraordinary and special. 

She smiled to herself in the back seat of the car; she didn’t intend to forget. She wished she could have talked to him more, but she had promised him she wouldn’t forget.

There was also mention of… a purpose? He hadn’t elaborated, but the thought of having a destiny excited Frankie. She knew she was here for a reason, and she couldn’t wait to find out what that reason was.

Though, her purpose certainly wasn’t riding in this car. It smelled unpleasant, like an ashtray. Frankie was all about new experiences, but that was the thing; some were good, some were bad, and this wasn’t a good one.

The car continued puttering along. She leaned forward and asked for the two drivers to maybe turn on the radio, but one just grunted and the other one told her to sit back, or else.

Jeez. Pushy, much?

So, she sat back like the lady said, and looked at the trees again, thinking about the leaves changing and how vibrant the colors would be when it finally happened.

It was thirty minutes of thinking about how the world worked before Frankie saw a sign in the distance. Her heart leaped, and she pressed the side of her face to the glass to try and get a better look; as they got closer, she could make out the words “STORMY NIGHT HIGH”. The sign itself wasn’t extraordinary, just a concrete rectangle with an unassuming black font, but the sign didn’t have to be extraordinary for the people at school to be.

She grinned and tried to keep herself from making any excited noises, in fear of getting shushed by the grumpies again.

* * *

 

Apparently, a lot of the people that worked here were grumpies, too.

Frankie was in an office, sitting in a chair in front of a large, black desk, trying to keep her hands still, though she was having a hard time keeping herself from running her fingers over her stitches. Two guards (different people from the ones that had driven her here) were standing on either side of her. Like she would try to run.

The man across from her had his hands clasped on top of his desk, and a steely expression was on his face. She thought his leopard print ascot and his neatly trimmed beard were so voltage; she couldn’t wait to get her own style.

He cleared his throat. “Frankie Stein, is it?”

“Yes, sir!” She stuck her hand out to shake his, and his eyebrows straightened before he shook back. His grip was loose, like he was uncomfortable.

With a popping noise, her hand fell off, and his recoiled. She blushed. “Whoops! Sorry, this happened in the car, too. I guess the stitching isn’t as solid on that hand.”

When she saw his face, which was twisted in some emotion she had never seen before (she hadn’t seen many, but still), she hurriedly reattached her hand. She felt embarrassed.

The man took a deep breath before continuing. “If you haven’t caught on, I am Administrator Van Helsing. I am in charge of this school, and I do not tolerate any public displays of… foolishness, if you will.”

“You mean my hand? I really am sorry, it just–”

“You have much to learn. But that’s why you’re here.”

Frankie blinked. What was he talking about?

He continued, “In any case, your stay here begins immediately. You will be staying in…” he paused to look at a chart laid to the side, “girl’s dorm hall A, bed 5. Your uniform will be laid on the bed, as well as your school supplies and any accommodations needed for staying alive; you will not need any other belongings. Go, it's almost curfew now.”

* * *

 

Lagoona suppressed a sigh as she felt the weight of her almost-empty moisturizer bottle in her hands. It was taking more and more to keep her skin normal as the years went on, and she knew she was going to have to ask for more of it soon.

The thought made her feel sick. She had already asked for more only a week ago. She knew her monster traits were getting more monster-y as she got older, and the thought terrified her.

She jumped slightly as the door to the dorm room was flung open and it slammed against the wall. Two guards walked in, gripping a green girl’s arms and leading her towards the vacant bed. A new student? This late?

Lagoona glanced over at her roommates, and they had already put their heads down as if they hadn’t noticed anything. She followed suit.

The guards gave the girl the same spiel they gave every new student; no leaving the dorm after curfew, no missing class, no speaking against humans because they’re “here to help the process”, et cetera. She thanked them before they left.

Once the guards were gone, Lagoona glanced at the girl again, who had been placed in the bed next to hers. That bed had been vacant for as long as she could remember, but now there were a stack of folded clothes and a large mechanical box with wires sticking out. 

The girl noticed Lagoona, and waved at her. “Hey! My name’s Frankie.”

“Uh, the name’s Lagoona.” Was this new monster nuts? She put her head down again; friendly conversations couldn’t last long or they would attract attention. 

Despite this, Frankie pushed on. “Sorry if this sounds rude, but are those scales on your arms? Oh, your legs too! You’ve got them all over!”

The sea monster’s stomach lurched and her heart twisted. She was always painfully aware of her scales showing; it wasn’t normal and she knew it. Not like any of the people at this school were normal. She wondered if Draculaura felt this way about her fangs, or if Clawdeen did about her ears. They must, right? That’s why they were all at this school; they didn’t deserve to be anywhere else. Abnormalities. 

She didn’t look up. “Yeah. They’re scales.”

“That’s so cool! I’ve never met anyone with scales before.” Frankie giggled. “Well, I haven’t really been alive that long, either, but still, they’re cool! It’s pretty how the light shines off them.”

Lagoona hesitated, and then looked up. What on Earth was she going on about? She furrowed her brow. “Er. Thanks.”

She noticed the other girls in the room were looking now. Cleo shot a raised eyebrow towards Frankie from across the room, and Clawdeen and Draculaura just looked vaguely unsettled. Ghoulia was the only one who didn’t seem to notice what was going on; she was probably asleep. Or she just didn’t get it. Zombies are slow, after all.

Frankie yawned. “Well, I think I’m going to turn in early! I am in desperate need of a recharge.” She set the metal box on the floor and picked up the two wires with clamps on the ends, affixing them to two neck bolts Lagoona hadn’t noticed until just now. She grinned as she laid down. “Sleep tight, Lagoona!”

“Alright, mate.” 

Draculaura had turned around again so she was facing her desk like before, but Clawdeen gave Lagoona a look, which was responded with a shrug. 

Lagoona resumed putting on her moisturizer for the night. Frankie would just have to get used to being a monster. If she kept this kind of talk up, her time here may end before the destinies began.


	2. Chapter 2

When Lagoona walked into Classroom One that morning, Ghoulia was already sitting at her desk, her jaw slack and her eyes vacant. It was beyond Lagoona how that girl managed to get places so quickly. 

She took her seat next to the window, which gave her a perfect view of the dying, uncut grass outside.

As she waited for 8:00 to arrive, Lagoona’s eyes drifted to her arm, and she noticed the sun shining on her scales. They were shimmering, their subtle glittery undertones highlighted by the sunlight.

Huh. Maybe Frankie did have a point. They really could look sort of almost pretty. In certain angles, in certain lighting.

Or maybe Frankie had those bolts of hers on too tight and Lagoona would take any complement she could get. She deserved no amount of praise; she didn’t need to get too used to it.

She was snapped from her thoughts by a pointing stick rapping the chalkboard. She hadn’t even noticed the room had filled out, and that Frankie was standing next to the teacher at the front of the class, a smile on her face.

Mr. Zarr’s face was a direct contrast to Frankie’s, without a hint of emotion other than boredom. “We have a new student joining us today. Frankie Stein. Bit late, aren’t you?”

“Better late than never!”

Her voice was as chipper as it had been last night. Crikey.

Mr. Zarr pointed at the empty seat in the room, near the front. “Sit there. Don’t expect me to hold your hand; I’m here to teach you and nothing else.”

Frankie took the chair, waving at everyone in the process. Lagoona half-heartedly waved back, and Deuce did too, though he seemed a little amused. Mr. Zarr rolled his eyes and began lecturing without another minute wasted.

Today’s lesson was something about classifications in the animal kingdom. Lagoona wasn’t paying too much attention. When were they going to use this? They wouldn’t ever get a chance to.

Frankie was taking notes anyway. She was actually using her notebook.

The first hour was over and it was time to move to history. Lagoona was selfishly staring at her scales again, only vaguely listening to the lecture. This time, it was about past heroes. She never listened when it came to legacy-related stuff.

Frankie’s hand shot up. It took a second for him to notice, but once he did, Mr. Zarr blinked in confusion. “Stein?”

“You mentioned destinies just now. If it’s okay for me to ask, and I know it’s just my first day, but when are we going to learn about ours? I’m super interested in them!”

“You should have already been briefed on that.”

“Really? I don’t really remember anyone doing that!”

“Well, it’s not my job. Ask Administrator van Helsing when he gets back.”

He continued talking as if nothing happened.

Frankie’s hand dropped slowly and Lagoona felt pity for her. So that’s why Frankie was acting so strange. She didn’t know yet. Why didn’t she know? They hadn’t had a new student in quite some time, so they probably just…forgot to tell her.

Lagoona didn’t want to be the one to break it to her.

* * *

 

It was going to be a few days before Helsing returned to the school. Frankie learned from her roommates that he spent most of his time at Our Lady of the Heart of Valor, the boarding school a few miles away. However, in his absence, Headmistress Bloodgood was here; she was a monster like Frankie and the others.

Frankie was doing the best that she could, but living in this place was tougher than anticipated. Yes, her fellow students were extraordinary, but it seemed like none of them wanted to talk to her.

The hallways were noisy, not with chattering voices, but with scuffling feet. Lunch was usually tasteless, and every table could only fit one person. She wanted desperately to make friends, but she was being shut out at every opportunity.

She thought maybe knowing about the destinies would give her some answers. She was promised a destiny, after all.

So, after class on her second day, Frankie asked one of the guards if she could see the headmistress. She had figured out it was best to ask them before doing things, or else you’d get dirty glances, or be forbidden from doing it at all, and frankly, she was getting a little sick of that.

Luckily, she had asked one of the nicer ones, and was escorted there upon request.

Headmistress Bloodgood’s office was much smaller than Administrator van Helsing’s. The monster herself was beautiful in a sharp way, but nothing about her seemed very monster-like.

When she saw people entering her office, she straightened the stack of papers in her hand and set it aside. “Frankie Stein. I don’t believe we’ve met yet.”

Frankie smiled. “You know my name!”

“Well, we haven’t had a new student in a while, and you seem to fit the Stein name.”

Frankie took a seat without being asked to. She decided to get straight to the point. “Speaking of, that’s actually what I came here for. You see, my creator mentioned something about a destiny when I first came to life? My teacher Mr. Zarr said I needed to ask the administrator, but I couldn’t wait any longer!”

Bloodgood’s small smile turned into a frown. “They didn’t give you the briefing?”

“That’s exactly what Mr. Zarr said to me!”

The headmistress leaned back in her chair, her face slowly becoming heavy with thought. Without looking at him, she dismissed the guard.

She stood, straightening her long, gray jacket, and closed the curtains on her window, leaving the only light source the fluorescent light bulb in the ceiling. She didn’t turn back to face Frankie. “The reason you’re here…the reason every monster is here… is complicated.”

Frankie didn’t respond, the sudden change in the atmosphere unnerving her.

Bloodgood continued. “There’s a certain way the world works. Part of this involves stories. Stories which have roles, and these roles need to be played.”

“So, my destiny is sorta like…being a character in a story?”

“Yes, precisely. Every one of you has a part to play.” Her hands rested clasped behind her waist. “There is good and evil in the world. And evil needs its story told just as much as good does, as difficult as this is to accept.”

Where was this going?

“That is why you are here. You exist for a reason, Frankie, and…” her voice was stiff, as if she had said this a million times before, “…that is to fill this role.”

“Wait a second. You’re saying my destiny…is to be bad?”

“A succinct way of putting it, but yes. The heroes are currently being trained for their roles as well, at Our Lady of the Heart of Valor.”

Frankie sunk a little in her chair. Evil? She wasn’t evil. None of the other monsters seemed this way, either.

Her stomach turned. “So, once the stories are over, what happens?”

“That’s the thing, Miss Stein. Evil is vanquished by good. Monsters are unfit for life after they have played their role. It’s just nature.” Everything that came out of her mouth sounded scripted.

“Wait, so we just die? We can’t even live after these stories of ours are over?”

“Typically, part of the story IS to die.”

Bloodgood said something else after that, but Frankie couldn’t hear. Her chest was clenching up. This couldn’t be right! This couldn’t be why she was built!

Her vision blurred as she heard Bloodgood saying her name. She sounded like she was miles away. “Miss Stein?”

Frankie swallowed hard. “I’m going back to my dorm now.”

“Of course. It’s almost curfew, anyway. Good evening, Frankie. Apologies for not being told this earlier; I hope this has cleared things up.”

She couldn’t feel any of her limbs as the guard re-entered the office and wordlessly led her out of the room.

* * *

 

Cleo pulled at her arm wraps absentmindedly and stared at the ceiling. Normally, she’d look at her own reflection for a while once class had ended, or maybe reread one of the few books from the library, but today, she just stared as she lay on her hard mattress.

She could hear her roommates doing their daily routines. She was so incredibly glad that she didn’t have fur to trim, fangs to dull, or anything like that. Her horribleness was on the inside, and she could at least keep up the illusion of being beautiful.

While Cleo was lost in thought about her fate, she heard the door open. She didn’t have to look to know that it was that new girl, but she looked anyway.

Only now, Frankie didn’t look obnoxiously happy. She looked like death itself. Was she even undead? Oh, who cares.

Lagoona sat up. “Something happen?”

Frankie sat on her bed, her bolts sparking. “I was… briefed.”

The sea monster sucked in air through her teeth, but didn’t reply.

Frankie, however, continued talking. “I mean, that can’t be it! That can’t be the whole reason we’re here.”

Cleo laughed. “Believe it, stitches. We’re all born to die. I may be less horrible than everyone else, but oh, you know. A monster’s a monster.”

“And you guys just accept this?”

Lagoona’s voice was gentle, which was new. “We aren’t heroes. We’ve known this our whole lives.”

Clawdeen chimed in, “I’m surprised they let you into school so late. We’ve all been here pretty much our entire lives; new students aren’t really a thing that happens here.”

Frankie laid down, her hand picking at the seams of her mattress. She repeated herself. “This can’t be it…”

Draculaura set down her tooth file. “Get some sleep. It probably just needs time to set in.”

“You’re all okay with this?! You don’t want a life outside of this… this prison?” It felt odd calling it that after being so optimistic before, but Frankie realized there was no better term.

Cleo snapped, “Haven’t you noticed? None of us are normal. We are all deformed. We are ugly, and nasty, and we don’t get happy endings.” She turned over so she was facing away from Frankie’s bed.

The girls were all silent. The subject of their destinies was rarely brought up on the few occasions they did talk, and when it did, outbursts usually happened. It wasn’t pretty, and there was nothing they could do to change it, so they just avoided the subject.

Everyone turned back around and continued what they were doing (or not doing). Frankie followed Cleo’s lead and laid down, reaching for the clamps on her generator. She was almost drained anyway. 


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Frankie woke up feeling refreshed, and smiled at the sun shining through the dorm’s window. This lasted all of a few seconds until, all at once, the events of the previous day started returning to her memory.

Frankie’s eyes threatened to tear up as her hand snaked over the side of her mattress. She dug her fingers into it to try and relieve her tension, not even bothering to unhook herself from her charger yet.

The seams holding the mattress together loosened very easily, leaving a hole. Figuring a little more property damage couldn’t hurt at this point, she reached to pull some of the stuffing out, but was met with the a crinkling sound.

She peeked her head over the side of the bed to see what it was, and it looked like the corner of a piece of notebook paper.

Her newfound plight pushed aside in favor of a new discovery, she took her clamps off, hopped off of her bed and pulled at the strings until there was a sizable tear in the side of the mattress. The stitching had seemed weaker in this one spot, almost as if it had been replaced from previous damage.

She looked over at her roommates, who were all still asleep. Her getting out of bed hadn’t disturbed them.

Frankie pulled carefully at the corner of the paper, making sure not to rip it. It came out in one piece, although it was wrinkled now.

She smoothed the paper out and read the page in stunned silence. The words were written in a messy handwriting, and the paper itself had slightly yellowed with its apparent age. There were only a few paragraphs.

> _“Class was boring again. There’s not much to write about, really. Nothing ever happens here: we all just go to class and that’s about it. The stories are in about a month… that’s so far away and so close, all at once. I wish I had started writing sooner… and that I wrote more. I just can’t think of what to say, and I’m scared they’ll find this.”_
> 
> _“The snake-haired girl yelled in class today. The guards held her down and pulled her out of the room; she was screaming something, but I couldn’t make it out. I haven’t seen her since. It’s just a week until the big moment, and they’re still just giving us lectures in class like nothing’s happening, so I think it’s driving us nuts.”_
> 
> _“I felt sick today. Not sick with a cold, but like I was gonna throw up. Two more days.”_
> 
> _“Sometimes, I wonder if there’s another way. Something other than just existing, and then entering our stories only to die. They start tomorrow, and I have no clue what’s even going to happen. How are we gonna get there? There has to be a way.”_

It ended there.

Frankie’s breathing was shaky and she had to loosen her grip on the paper, for she realized she was close to ripping it. This was overwhelming. It was so little, but so much.

She knew her predecessor was dead now. That much was a fact.

But these were his words. He had felt back then the same way she felt right now. _It wasn’t just her._

The thought occurred to her that he had hid these pages in the mattress for a reason. She folded them messily and shoved them back where they had come from; she was definitely going to look again later, but the others would be awake in a few minutes. She needed to collect her thoughts.

* * *

 

Frankie did not pay attention in class like she usually did. As she doodled lightning bolts and geometric shapes in the margins of her notebook, the diary pages replayed themselves in her head.

Mr. Zarr didn’t seem to notice her inattention. Most of the class didn’t listen, anyway, and it wasn’t like they had homework to do. Class was only a means of keeping them all in one place during the day.

Frankie was still feeling vaguely sick at what she had been told by Bloodgood, but the things the pages had said gave her such a strange feeling. It was a combination of melancholy, curiosity, morbidity, and hope.

She wasn’t the only one who’s felt this way, she repeated to herself. So if she wasn’t the only one, why hadn’t anyone done anything? Were they scared? Did they think they couldn’t change anything?

The last one was a definite possibility, but nothing would happen if nobody tried. But trying wasn’t sounding very smart right now.

She propped her chin up in her hands. Everything was a contradiction lately.

* * *

 

A week passed. Frankie thought a great deal in those seven days.

She decided she couldn’t just keep the journal pages a secret; she had to tell someone. The question was, who?

It couldn’t be Cleo. Frankie knew that already. Maybe she’d warm up to her soon, but for now Cleo hadn’t even looked at her since the night Frankie found out about their destinies.

It couldn’t be Deuce, either. He was nice, but the only time she got to see him was in class. He slept in the boy’s dorms. So that left Draculaura, Clawdeen, Lagoona, and Ghoulia.

The vampire and the werewolf were nice, too, but Frankie had talked the most with Lagoona, and Ghoulia was the only other monster who took notes, so she showed signs of curiosity and a love for learning, just like Frankie.

Frankie eventually decided on Ghoulia. She might tell Lagoona, too, one day, but she wanted to hear the opinion of another kindred spirit. Or what she assumed was a kindred spirit, anyway.

* * *

 

In class that day, Frankie passed a note to Ghoulia, saying to meet her during lunch in their dorm room. Ghoulia agreed, much to Frankie’s excitement, but said not to pass notes to her again; there was too much of a chance they’d get caught. She was very interested, but also cautious, and Frankie supposed she understood why.

They wouldn’t exactly be penalized for not going to lunch. It was them that would be hungry, and the guards didn’t see it as their problem. The thing they enforced was that they needed to be out of the classrooms after class was over, and into the dorms by 6pm. The girls just needed to be discreet about what they were doing.

It was Ghoulia who got to the dorm room first; she was straightening her own bed when Frankie arrived. She wasn’t even sure how the zombie got there so quickly, but she didn’t question it and practically bounced over to her bed.

Frankie pulled out the journal page from their hiding spot, and passed them over to Ghoulia’s outstretched hand after she had approached. She pushed her glasses up and began reading the page, taking a seat on Frankie’s bed.

Frankie sat beside her, swinging her legs while her bolts sparked in anticipation.

After a minute of her feeling like she was going to explode, she clenched her hands to her chest when Ghoulia groaned that she was finished. “Well? What do you make of it?”

_“It’s interesting, to say the least. This is your predecessor’s doing?”_

“Yes! At least, I think so. It makes sense they would make us sleep in the same bed, right?” Frankie’s shoulders sagged slightly. “Wow, that’s a little grim.”

Ghoulia looked like she was looking over the paragraphs again. _“He must have had a death wish, recording his thoughts this way. Though I must admit, the same thoughts have occurred to me, but I’ve never thought to put them into words; he either had a death wish or he was very brave.”_

“Either way, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. You know, maybe there’s something that can be done.”

_“And you chose to come to me, of all the monsters you could have come to?”_

“Yeah! Why not?”

Ghoulia lowered the paper and stared at Frankie over the rims of her glasses. _“Zombies are not exactly heralded for our intuition.”_

“Listen to the way you just said what you said. I don’t even know what heralded means, but I know what intuition means; you’re smart, Ghoulia, and I wanted your opinion.”

The zombie very slowly began to smile. _“It’s appreciated. But I honestly couldn’t tell you what to make of it; that’s for you to decide, I believe. The higher-ups are going to make it difficult to get anything done.”_

“Yeah, probably. But maybe…we’re going to be in stories, right? And we won’t be the only ones, will we?”

_“No. There’s a school similar to ours a few miles away, where the other members of our stories are. I’m not sure what happens there or what it’s like, we just know it exists.”_

Frankie sat beside Ghoulia. “I wish there was a way that we could know what we were in for. You know, so we could maybe be ready for whatever was coming.”

The paper made a crinkling noise as it shifted in Ghoulia’s hand. _“Actually—“_

At that moment, the door to the room creaked open, and Cleo walked in.

Frankie and Ghoulia froze. Cleo frowned when she saw them, and there was a moment of silent tension.

She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Hello, Ghoulia. Just here to tighten my wraps.” She pursed her lips, looking like her plans had just been averted. “What are you up to?”

Frankie gritted her teeth as Ghoulia told Cleo what she had shown her. It wasn’t like she was trying to keep secrets from Cleo, but she hadn’t wanted to bother her, especially after how she reacted to things beforehand.

Cleo laughed and approached Frankie’s bed, eyeing the paper. “Oh, that’s it? That’s what you skipped lunch for, Ghoulia? They had pig brains today for the zombies, and you missed that. They haven’t usually got those.”

Frankie took the paper back from Ghoulia. “You know, maybe you should read what he wrote before you jump to conclusions. It’s got me thinking about our destinies, and—“

“It can’t be anything more than mindless chatter, which is useless without action, and we can’t do anything.”

“You haven’t even read them, though!”

Cleo bent closer to Frankie’s face. “Alright, you don’t seem to be getting this. Do you think Clawdeen’s nails are for carving smiley faces in desks? That Draculaura’s fangs are for filing nails? Frankie, I literally don’t have a heart. We were not built for sweetness, and we never will be; it would be best if you just accepted that and kept your head down. It’s better for all of us. Better in the meantime, at least.”

“But don’t you think it’s wrong we have to accept it?”

She inhaled. “…what I think is irrelevant. I’m telling you what’s easiest. Either they eliminate you for trying to start something, or you’re eliminated in your story. I’ve made my peace with it.”

Frankie thought she heard Cleo’s voice waver, but she ignored it and crossed her arms. “Even so, I wanna make the most of my time. Maybe I can make a difference.”

“Fine, suit yourself.” She walked briskly towards the door. “But don’t be too surprised if nobody plays along.” 


	4. Chapter 4

Over the next few days, word spread about Frankie's intentions, thanks to an offhand mention by Cleo to a ghost from another classroom named Spectra while in the library one day. The rumors were based partly in reality and partly in stories made up to make everything sound more exciting.

The monsters did not lead very fun lives, and they weren't outright forbidden from talking to each other after classes as long as it didn't seem suspicious, they just often chose not to. So, they leeched onto any chance to be entertained.

Frankie was right; she was not the only one having these thoughts. Nobody voiced their agreement with her ideas when they talked about it, but they were all thinking variations of the same thing: "Why us? Why do we go to this school? What's our sister school like? The heroes weren't born to die, so why were we?"

The other monsters also felt a conflict in their hearts. They felt ugly, they felt dangerous, and they felt like they did not deserve happy endings. But when they heard that another monster was vocalizing the very same questions that lingered at the back of their minds, it was incredibly validating and thought-provoking.

* * *

 

A week after Frankie passed the first note to Ghoulia, the class was scheduled to meet in the basement lab for a science "experiment", if looking at things under a microscope and identifying them could even be called that. It was another excuse to keep the students busy, as well as keeping the lab from falling into complete dilapidation. 

It was a quiet and uneventful morning, but Mr. Zarr wasn't lecturing today, only sitting at the lab's desk. The breaks between his long periods of reading his book and him looking up to check on everyone were long enough for Ghoulia to write a note.

On a normal class day, her arms wouldn't have been able to move fast enough to get the message to Frankie without the teacher noticing. Today, she was safe, but this didn't stop her heart from pounding.

As Mr. Zarr began to get absorbed in his book again, Ghoulia began to slowly extend the notebook paper across her and Frankie's table. She was careful not to make any noise that would disturb the almost-silence that filled the room.

Frankie looked up from her microscope, nearly dropping the slide in her hand before reorienting herself and taking the note with the least amount of enthusiasm possible.

She carefully unfolded it, and nodded cheerfully at Ghoulia after reading its short contents. Ghoulia nodded and went back to work as if nothing had happened, her nervousness settling; it was now agreed they would meet again at lunch. The zombie had more information to share that had been interrupted by Cleo, and she thought Frankie may find it useful.

As she wrote down the next answer on her worksheet, Ghoulia thought she may have been becoming a bit fond of Frankie as a person. It was a strange feeling, but a good one, and if she helped her, there may be a chance she could be fond of even more people.

* * *

 

The rest of the morning, nothing happened besides Classroom One continuing to fill out their worksheets.

Cleo noticed that she felt vaguely on edge, as opposed to numb like she usually felt in class. Frankie's talk made her hair stand on end, and not just because the girl had that unfortunate electricity condition. The longer she had time to just sit and think about it, the sicker it made her feel.

The end result of all this couldn't be good; none of the students had any power, and Frankie was stupid to think they did. Absolutely.

But...

What if--

The school bell rang, signalling lunch and snapping Cleo out of her thoughts. She silently thanked it, because she wasn't sure how much more of the _thoughts_ she could handle. She hated second guessing herself, and she hated admitting it even more.

The students picked up their things and headed for the door. Cleo stopped part of the way there, realizing she had left her pencil on the desk.

She turned around, muttering that she would be there in a second. The others kept walking; nobody waited for each other after class. It looked too friendly.

When she got to the desk and picked up the pencil, she found it had gotten something on it from the experiment. Eugh. That was not going in her bag like that.

She went to grab a paper towel from the back counter when she heard the lab door close. The loud clang was enough to startle her into almost dropping the pencil, but she just acted like she hadn’t heard anything.

Once she was done, Cleo headed out. Her hand grabbed the cold door handle, and tried turning it, but it didn’t budge.

Annoyed, she pushed harder. No result. Was it locked?

Oh, _Ra,_ it was locked.

She guessed that it locked automatically when it shut, preventing monsters from getting in and causing trouble. Mr. Zarr must have used a key to get out, and the students didn’t think to hold it open since they didn’t know that it locked, either.

“Hey! This door’s locked!” she shouted, trying to keep her breathing steady, trying to prevent her claustrophobia from taking over. They couldn’t have made it far, could they?

There wasn’t a response. She banged her fists, trying to make noise. Her voice was much louder this time. “Mr. Zarr! The lab door is shut and I’m stuck!”

She stopped her racket to listen closely for any kind of noise, but there was nothing but the cold noises of the basement.

Cleo kicked the door before turning around and pressing her back to it, her bag falling from her hands. The room suddenly seemed a lot smaller now. Had the air always been this thick down here?

She screeched. “HEY!” even though she had figured out by now the walls were too thick. Her fists slammed against the wall behind her. “Help!”

After a minute of the world slowly starting to close in on her more and more, she sat down on the cold stone floor. Her legs felt like they would have given out any second. This room was too small, and the walls were too thick, and nobody could hear her scream at the top of her lungs.

Cleo hugged her knees and her tears soaked into her leg wraps. She was the only source of sound in the room.

* * *

 

Deuce glanced again at the empty desk where Cleo usually sat. He had done this about 20 times in the past hour.

She said she would be coming back after them, right? But they had been back from the lab for a while, and she hadn’t shown up yet. Class was nearly over.

Why was he stuck on this thought? He wasn't friends with her. He wasn't friends with anybody in their classroom. He had never talked to her.

So, why was he fixating on this?

He started looking at the door, and didn’t take his eyes off the doorknob. The next twenty minutes in class were more long and tedious than usual.

After what seemed like an eternity, class was dismissed for the day. Cleo was probably fine. She must have gone straight back to her dorm after the lab. An unwise decision, since she may be caught out of class, but a likely one. She was alright.

Deuce repeated these thoughts to himself as he walked down the halls, made sure nobody was watching him, and entered the door that led to the basement. He’d go back to his room straight after this. It couldn’t hurt to look. It was the last place he saw her, after all. Plus, if he found her, it'd be less of a hassle for the staff, and they'd be in a better mood.

The stairway to the lab was cold and depressing. It was dimly lit, unlike the rest of the school. Why bother lighting a stairwell that they didn’t use that often?

Near the bottom, he thought that he heard something coming from the direction he was headed it. It sounded like a person rambling. It would have unnerved him if he hadn’t been looking for someone.

Deuce half-ran down the last of the stairs. When he reached the lab door, it was definitely Cleo’s voice coming from behind the door, but it was muffled. “Cleo?”

The rambling stopped. Her reply sounded louder and more shocked than she had probably intended. “ _Deuce?_ ”

He tried pulling the door handle, but it wouldn’t budge. “What happened?”

He heard her hands hit the door. “Deuce! Get me out, right now!”

“It’s locked!”

“You think I don’t know that? Look around!”

Deuce couldn’t see much, especially since he had shades on, but he ran his hands across the walls, hoping to find something, anything.

Miraculously, there was a hook with a key on it; he removed it, thinking about how stupid of a design this door had. If the key was right here, then why bother locking it?

“I’ve got it! Just a second.” He fumbled with the key in the dark, trying to get it in the lock.

He heard Cleo whine, “Hurry!”, although it was more of a plea than a whine.

After a few painful seconds, he got it, and the door opened toward him, which was another poor design choice. The light from the lab made his eyes hurt, and it was accompanied by the sound of Cleo loudly sighing in relief. It took him a second to adjust to the light source, and then he saw her expression.

The small amount of makeup the girls were allowed to wear was smudged on her face, and her eyes were red from recent tears.

Deuce said, “What happened?”

She wiped her face, trying to preserve some dignity, even though she was staring at his feet. “I guess the door locks on its own.”

His chest tightened. His worries had been right. “Have you been trapped down here this whole time?”

“I yelled. I guess you all had walked away.” She leaned to pick up her bag, her hands shaking. “What made you come?”

 _I haven’t stopped worrying about you for the past hour and a half for some reason I can't place?_ “I, uh… forgot my books. But they can wait. You need to get back to your room now.”

She continued to avoid his face. “I suppose so.”

They stood in silence for a few moments. Deuce was about to ask if she was okay again when Cleo said something too low for him to hear. He leaned a little closer, trying not to get too close. “Huh?”

Cleo finally made eye contact with him; the best she could while his eyes were covered, anyway. Her own eyes looked urgent. “I can’t be alone right now and I don’t want to go back yet. They’ll just be talking about whatever new idea Frankie has. I cannot listen to any of that right now.”

He blinked, ignoring her comment about Frankie. He wasn’t entirely sure about how he felt about all that yet, either. “Where could we go? They’ll find us anywhere but here.”

“I don’t know, but I can’t even look at this place any longer. I’m getting nauseous at the thought.”

Deuce thought for a second, the idea of actually talking to her distracting him from thinking of a place. He was brought back by her saying, “Deuce?”

“Uh…. I bet nobody’s in the classrooms right now.”

* * *

 

They snuck into Mr. Zarr’s now-empty classroom, wondering why they kept the lab locked but not the classrooms, and were sitting in the desks farthest from the windows.

Cleo was trying to remove her makeup without a mirror, using the tissues from the front of the room. Deuce wasn’t looking, cause he figured she felt weird about stuff already.

This was the perfect chance to talk with her, but he didn’t even know where to begin. He hadn’t even thought about talking to Cleo before Frankie came, and now she was allegedly spouting ideas about passive rebellion and other words he couldn’t wrap his head around, according to Jackson. He had to give the girl credit for doing her research, though.

“Forgot your books, huh?”

Cleo’s stony voice cut through the silence, making Deuce's heart jump. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. I can get em later, though. I know you wanted to leave.”

She balled the tissue up, planning to throw it away in her dorm room where the evidence of them being here couldn’t be found. “I suppose I should thank you for that, even though you were going down there anyway. I’m not sure how much longer I could have handled that.”

“It’s not a problem. Being trapped bother you?”

“Immensely. I’m not really sure why. I’m not very fond of the dark, either, but the lights turn off at the same time every night, so there isn't much I can do about that.”

“I don’t really like the food here. Not just cause it’s gross, but it just feels off. You know? Like…they’re putting something in it. I don't think they are, but I wouldn't be surprised.”

“Yes, I know. Where did that thought come from?”

“I thought we were talking about stuff we don’t like here.”

“Oh. I guess we were.”

Deuce turned so he was facing her in his chair. “What about the opposite? What kinda stuff do you like? That must be more fun to talk about than stuff we don’t like.”

Cleo crossed her arms, ignoring that he seemed to be taking a cue from Frankie's ideas. “Well, I like makeup. I feel like I could do a lot more if they’d let us wear more than mascara. I mean, there’s other parts of the face. And for that matter, these uniforms are horrid. Although I guess we deserve them, after all.”

“Yeah.”

Cleo propped her head on her hand, which was much steadier than earlier. “What about you? I told you what I like, now it’s your turn or else it’s unfair, and you will not be treating a princess like that, even if I’m only a princess in name.”

“Um… well, I’m not sure if I like it, but I’d like to try sports one day. They’ve got some kind of something about them in the library that I came across one day while I was bored. I don’t really do a whole lot after class.”

“That’s alright, I don’t think any of us do.” Her eyebrows lowered. “Never really get the chance.”

Both of their heads turned to the window during the pause in conversation, looking at the bare trees blowing in the slight wind.

They didn't spend much longer in the classroom; Cleo had calmed down quite a bit, and they didn't want to sneak around any longer than they had to. Walking in different directions as they exited the room somehow made both of them feel strange, like they were leaving behind something that they shouldn't.

They each hushed their thoughts for the time being.


	5. Chapter 5

During lunch the very same day, Frankie made a beeline for the dorms as inconspicuously as possible.

When she arrived, Ghoulia was waiting just like she said she would, but what made Frankie pause was the presence of three of their other roommates. Draculaura, Clawdeen, and Lagoona were waiting alongside the zombie, their faces in different states of restlessness.

Frankie quietly shut the door behind her, trying to keep a calm face despite the excitement growing in her chest. Did they know? Were they here to help? "Hey, Ghoulia! Hey, everyone!"

Ghoulia was about to groan when Clawdeen interrupted. "Alright, what's the deal?"

"Huh?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Sparky." Clawdeen stood up and crossed her arms, but she didn't look confrontational. "You gotta know about all the rumors going around, that you're trying to start something. We're here because we wanna get the story straight."

Frankie stood up straighter. She didn't know the others were talking about this, too; it filled her with a mixture of pride and fear that her words were being spread around. "Well, just sitting around can't be helping any of us."

Draculaura shifted nervously where she sat, and Lagoona wrung her hands. Clawdeen and Ghoulia were the only ones not showing any outward signs of anxiety.

The ghouls looked at each other for a few moments before Frankie turned her attention to Ghoulia. "You had something to tell me?"

Ghoulia nodded once. " _Of course. Although, should I be sharing it in this company? We did plan for only us to meet._ "

Draculaura squeaked in offense. "Hey! I came here for a reason!"

"No, no, it's alright." Frankie approached them. "We have to have each other's backs. We can't be divided on this. I'm so glad you guys showed up, too, even though it wasn't planned," she said with a hand placed to her heart and a smile on her face. Cleo wasn't here, but Frankie was sure she'd come around. She was probably avoiding them right now, and if she needed time for the idea to sink in, that was fine. It was a scary thing, after all.

She sat on the bed next to the one the girls were all gathered around and folded her hands in her lap. "So what's up, Ghoulia?"

Ghoulia leaned forward. " _What if I told you all of our parents' stories were taped and archived?_ "

Lagoona's face came alive for the first time since Frankie had walked in. "What, now?"

" _I'm not one hundred percent sure, but I'm not sure what else it could be. I saw them with my own eyes. Van Helsing has them in a closet that's connected with his office, and there's shelves and shelves full of tapes; I caught a glimpse of them one day when I was called in there, and one of the guards slipped into the room."_

Frankie's heart pounded. "You really think it could be our parents?"

Draculaura's face paled even more than it was already pale. "How would we even get in there? We couldn't sneak in his office."

"Yeah, that's crazy." Clawdeen's expression was wary. "And what good would that even do?"

Ghoulia pursed her lips. " _Those tapes are my best bet for gathering valuable information we could use to our advantage, if they're what I think they are. And I don't think we could have reached them before Frankie came along._ "

"What do you mean?"

" _Her physiology. None of us have abilities that could help us sneak past, but she does. You can disassemble yourself, correct, Frankie?_ "

Frankie nodded excitedly. She could see exactly where this was going, the gears in her mind turning. "I could use my hand!"

She undid the wires that held her right hand in place and held the appendage out in her other hand, wiggling its fingers in demonstration.

A slow smile began to spread across Lagoona's face, but she stopped. "Wait, even if you got in with your hand, how would you see?"

Frankie thought for a second, and reattached her hand. "I may have an idea."

She pushed past her hair and into her scalp and began fiddling with something; the others realized she also had hidden wire stitches circling her head. Draculaura connected the dots about what Frankie was about to do a moment too late before she could look at the floor, catching a glimpse and her hemophobia making her stomach lurch.

The top of Frankie's skull flipped open, exposing her brain. The ghouls (except Draculaura) watched in morbid fascination as she slipped a finger behind her eyes and popped one out without much effort, catching it in her free hand.

She closed her head again and held the eye up. "Problem solved."

Ghoulia made a curious noise. " _I suppose I was aware you could do that, but that's still astounding. I've never seen anything like it._ "

Lagoona put a hand on Draculaura's shoulder. "You alright, love?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I just... get queasy at the sight of..."

Frankie grimaced in embarrassment. "Oh, geez, I'm sorry. I'll be sure to warn you next time."

" _Alright, back to the subject at hand._ " Ghoulia rolled her eyes and smiled as Frankie waved her detached hand at her phrasing. " _You think you could sneak into the closet this way?_ "

"Sure! I think it would just be a matter of good hiding spaces and waiting for open doors. And there's quite a few potted plants around the school that would be big enough to hide behind, I think I could manage it."

Clawdeen leaned back, propping herself up with her arm. "What happens if you get there and there's no way to watch anything?"

"Then I just come back. No harm in trying."

The werewolf's face stayed serious. "You know the stuff on those tapes could be bad. We don't know anything about our futures, we just know we're the bad guys."

Frankie's heart warmed at Clawdeen's concern. "I'll stop if it gets to be too much. We could really use this."

* * *

Not too much later, Frankie had sent her hand out the door using her fingers as tiny legs and balancing her eye on her back. She narrated everything that was happening to the other ghouls to mixed reactions of impatience and fascination.

It didn't take that long for her to get into the tape closet. The guards weren't looking at the floor, and a few of them went in and out of Van Helsing's office and its adjoining rooms enough for her to sneak in through the open doors.

Her hand hid behind a shelf in the tape closet until the guard in there left for his lunch break. They obviously didn't think anything would happen during the small window of time that he was gone.

Back in the dorm, Frankie tried not to squeal in anticipation. This was important. "Okay guys, I'm in the room." She bit her tongue. "Putting a tape in now. There's a TV in here."

Lagoona oohed. "Which one?"

"I couldn't read the label, but it's playing now...oh, oh! I think this is your dad's story, Draculaura!"

Draculaura leaned in closer, despite her squeamishness. "Is it really? What makes you think so?"

"He's got fangs, and he has pink skin like you. Wow, you guys look a lot alike, it's incredible..."

Draculaura felt her stomach flip. "What's he wearing?"

"A black suit, with a _biiig_ cape."

After this, Frankie was silent for a while, obviously keeping tabs on what was happening. The others gradually lost interest and began doing other things while Frankie worked, but Draculaura paid close attention.

Quite a while passed. They still waited. Frankie's expression stopped looking optimistic, and started darkening.

At one point, Frankie gasped and leaned forward. Twenty minutes later, her lip quivered and she made a choked sobbing noise.

Everyone was looking at Frankie now, unable to turn away. She was covering her mouth and quietly murmuring, "No, no…"

A muffled half-scream came from her clamped mouth. "I'm turning it off! It's too much!"

Clawdeen's eyes were plates. "Did you finish it?"

"No! But I can't stand it anymore!"

"What did you see, Frankie?" Lagoona put her hand on Frankie's arm, and she grabbed it in return, squeezing it hard.

"I... I can't be sure. I swore I saw a flash of yellow leopard print, and then a minute later, the human was..." She inhaled shakily. "Oh, no."

"What is it?"

"The human, she had part of her neck ripped open, and she was... bleeding. A lot. And I think it was supposed to be Draculaura's dad that did it...but it didn't even show him doing anything like that. It just said he did. And then there was more and more normies dead, and then they went after him, and I turned it off."

Ghoulia narrowed her eyes. " _So, there was no footage at all of the humans being killed?_ "

"No. It just cut to them."

" _And what did you say you saw before that?_ "

"The leopard print?"

" _Yes, that._ " The zombie furrowed her brow in thought. " _Who is the only person we know that wears that kind of fabric?_ "

Nobody responded, because they all knew the answer. Administrator Van Helsing.

Clawdeen's fingernails threatened to rip the sheets she was gripping in frustration. "You think he had something to do with it?"

" _Think about it. You didn't actually see any attacks, correct? It could very well have been sabotage._ "

Lagoona asked, "Why would he sabotage it? What would he have to gain from that?"

" _That, I don't know. Making Draculaura's father lash out to continue the myth that we're no more than animals, possibly? But, there's a point to this that I think you're all missing: if he sabotaged the story, that means it deviated from its original path. And if it deviated then, and the story was still able to finish..._ "

Frankie gasped. "That means that we could change the story, too! The universe isn't gonna stop functioning because we don't act like the villains!"

Ghoulia grinned. " _Exactly._ "

"How could we change it?" Draculaura's voice was quieter now after hearing about her father. "Would the humans even listen to us?"

Clawdeen stood up and paced. "No clue. The only ones we've met are the guards and Helsing, and they're impossible." She scoffed. "Helsing. More like Hellscream."

"Well, it's worth a shot, isn't it?" Lagoona looked up with big, watery eyes. "Not like we have much to lose, ourselves."

Clawdeen's back was towards everyone else as she stared out the window. "My older brother and sister are dead because of all this. I never even knew them. I know I got a few younger siblings, too, and I can't..." She gulped. "I can't let them die too. I don't care if I don't even know them. If I didn't do something, I'd have blood on my hands."

Ghoulia put a hand on Clawdeen's shoulder. " _We're in this together now. All of us could have our places taken in the future by monsters we'll never know._ "

Lagoona nodded. "I have siblings, too, and we won't let that happen. Not without a fight."

"Exactly." Frankie's present eye and her empty socket stared straight ahead, focusing on getting her hand back to the dorm. "Going against our stories is the biggest act of defiance we can do, and we can do that by being kind. We can try and make friends with the humans once the time comes. We know that could have an impact for sure now."

Clawdeen said, "Making friends? With heroes? You sure that's the best way to change stuff up?"

"We haven't got much of a choice, do we?" Draculaura's arms were pulled tight around her, and her face was unreadable.

A silence fell over the room, but it wasn't entirely an uncomfortable one. Their new knowledge swam around their heads and occupied all their thoughts.

They had their (possible) lifeline. It was just a matter of seizing their opportunity.

They now knew why their parents behaved in the villainous way they did, the way they were expected to. They were lashing out from fear; and really, they had every reason to be terrified . Self defense against the heroes was the only way they knew to react.

Fear was a powerful thing, but the ghouls weren't going to let it hold everyone, monsters and humans alike, in its iron grip anymore.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the longer wait on a short update! School and my mental health have been preventing me from writing that much lately, but hopefully I can get on a roll again.

Before they returned to class on the day of their first meeting, the ghouls agreed to meet another lunch period the next week to discuss how they could possibly befriend humans. It didn't seem like something that was doing to be easy, and they needed to be as ready as possible.

On the agreed day, Frankie could hardly keep herself together. She felt optimistic, and she knew that she may have no reason to, but any chance at making a difference set her bolts sparking.

If this worked, they would get to have lives. They wouldn't have to come back to Stormy Night High; nobody would know what to do with them, but they'd have each other.

However, when Frankie made a beeline for the dorms before lunch, she was met with a guard standing in front of the doors. They looked very serious.

When she asked to be let in so she could charge a bit over the lunch break, her request was denied. The guard gave her a nasty look and said that students had been running around during lunch, so the administrator had put out an order that nobody was allowed in the dorms, or anywhere else, during lunch hours.

Frankie just nodded and walked towards the lunch room, but she began to feel nervous energy quickly building inside her. Where had everyone else gone? Were the humans catching on to what they were doing?

She saw the other monsters from her dorm at the back of the lunch line; they had obviously tried to go to the dorms, too, and had to retreat.

Walking over, she took a spot behind Draculaura, and whispered, "What now?"

The vampire didn't turn her head to acknowledge her, but whispered back, "Ghoulia says library after class. We'll think of a better place then."

* * *

 

In the week or so since Cleo got stuck in the basement, she and Deuce had gotten in the habit of spending time in the library after class was over.

Neither of them had made plans to do so, but they had started looking for each other in their free time. Sometimes they talked, and sometimes they just stayed within the same general vicinity, reading books at adjacent tables. Sometimes, during a time they weren't talking, one would pass the other and wordlessly put a book in front of them, and it was always something related to what they had discussed in the classroom. A cookbook, or a beauty magazine, and things like that.

When they did talk, it was always in hushed whispers, and it was about the contents of the books, so the topics weren't varied, but Cleo welcomed it and got attached to it very quickly. Something mundane yet reliable and safe was preferable to whatever was going on in the dorms. She liked having Deuce to look forward to.

And, for whatever reason, he kept to the routine, too. Cleo didn't know why, but she was glad he did, since he was one of the only people who didn't push talking about the other nonsense going on. Maybe he felt the same way about having something to rely on.

Today, however, her -- their -- routine had been broken by the presence of her dorm mates at one of the circular tables in the library. The sight made her skin itch. This was _her_  library.

Well, not really hers, she reminded herself; she was only a monster, and the thought of owning anything was ridiculous. But seeing them still made her mad; it felt like an intrusion.

Deuce noticed it, too. and Cleo was glad that he decided to keep quiet about it in favor of the two of them talking instead, but she could tell he was either also annoyed, or he was interested. He kept stealing glances at them and biting his lip while he fidgeted with the corner of a page in front of him.

After a few minutes, Cleo couldn't take ignoring them anymore, and couldn't stop herself from mentioning them. As she closed the encyclopedia, her lip curled. "Just what do they think they're doing?"

Deuce looked over at the group as if neither of the two of them had looked yet. "Uh, my guess would be talking about Frankie's plans."

"They're idiots if they think they can talk about that here without getting caught."

"I gotta agree with you there."

She stared for a second more, holding her breath, and then stood up, making Deuce do the same by taking his arm. "Come on, let's go set them straight."

"Set them straight?"

"Yes!"

He tilted his head. "I thought you said you didn't want any part of it."

She ignored him and pulled him along towards the table, and he assumed that she was so caught up in her goal that she didn't notice she was touching his arm, because there could be no other reason.

The group's conversation halted when Cleo took one of the empty seats and Deuce awkwardly sat beside her as she glared at the other monsters.

Clawdeen glared right back. "What is it? We're busy."

Cleo folded her hands on the table. "I'm just wondering why you all want your so-called plans to fail so miserably."

"You haven't been talking about this with us, so it's none of your business."

"It IS my business if you're all going to get me in trouble by mere association with you. We live in the same dorm, in case you forgot."

Clawdeen pointed a sharp nail at Deuce. "Why's he here, then?"

Deuce stuttered and rubbed the back of his neck. "I, uh..."

"That's enough!" Frankie's breath caught in her throat after saying that, since it sounded to aggressive to her, but she continued. "They can listen if they want. They're involved, too; everyone at this school is, remember?"

"Right." Clawdeen sighed and clenched her teeth. "Sorry, I'm just paranoid after the dorm thing."

Cleo huffed, her annoyance at the group interrupting her unspoken schedule showing. "Well, I'm just here to say that this is going to be over before it starts if you talk about that stuff here."

Ghoulia spoke before anyone else got a change to snap back. " _That's what we're here to discuss, actually. We need a new place to meet._ "

Lagoona nodded. "Dorms have been blocked off during lunch, and that's what we used before."

"And we can't pass notes forever, we'll get caught if we do that." Draculaura tapped the heart-shaped birthmark on her face absentmindedly.

Cleo paused for a second, looking like something had immediately entered her head, and cut in, "The lab."

The others turned their attention toward her, all of them surprised for different reasons. Most of them were shocked that Cleo had helped so readily, and Deuce was surprised she brought that room up after what happened. He said, "Hey, you know, that's a good idea. Nobody's ever down there, except when we have those dumb assignments."

She inspected her fingernails. "It's soundproof, too."

Clawdeen glanced over her shoulder to make sure they hadn't been noticed yet. "You spend a lot of time down there?"

Cleo rolled her eyes. "Or you could just not use it and never have a suitable place to talk about your rebellion."

" _Our_ rebellion." Frankie would have pulled Cleo into a hug under different circumstances, but she settled on a huge grin. "It's perfect. You're welcome to come talk with us, Cleo, and you too, Deuce. We need all the monsters we can get."

Cleo's mouth went from a frown to a straight line. "I only brought it up to get you all out of here."

The others nodded at her in a "yeah, sure" kind of way, and she acted like they didn't.

Everyone instinctively disbanded now that the topic was closed, casually heading to other parts of the library right before a guard strolled by like clockwork, and he didn't notice anything. They were safe, and now they knew where to go.

For the first time in their lives, they had a plan that didn't involve remaining sitting ducks.

Deuce lingered at a shelf near the table that Cleo was still sitting at, and when the guard's back was turned, he gave the mummy a thumbs up. She put her finger to her lips in a shushing gesture and smiled, but stopped once she realized that she was.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to thank everyone for the incredibly sweet comments so far! It means a lot to me, thank you so much :) It motivates me to keep on writing!
> 
> The arena parts are coming after the next chapter or two, if all goes according to plan writing-wise. They're my favorite part of this entire story, it was just a matter of getting to them!

Sure enough, Cleo's suggestion worked. Next time the ghouls met, it was in the basement that was typically used for science lab sessions.

They had to be careful about when they used the room, since the other classrooms all took turns with it, but there were a good few days it wasn't used at all, and even on the days it was in use, they were done by lunchtime anyway.

Cleo and Deuce were invited this time too, but Cleo had agreed with great reluctance only when Frankie had asked her a second time just to make sure. This didn't bother Frankie; she was just over the moon that the mummy seemed to be wrapping her wraps a little less tightly. She wondered why the change was.

A few days had passed since the library, and they had now all managed to sneak into the basement. Deuce announced to the others that he had the key before he let the door close behind him; he made sure he was the last one in, for some reason.

Everyone had taken a seat except for Cleo, who was standing with her arms crossed and her shoulders tense.

Clawdeen broke the silence after the door had shut, an edge of uneasiness in her voice. "We've gotta be desperate to keep meeting like this, and in one of the classrooms, no less."

Cleo mumbled, "Tell me about it."

Frankie flicked a dust bunny off the teacher's desk. "I don't think it's desperate. And if it is, what's so wrong with that?"

"It's kind of nice, you know... not calling ourselves and everything else worthless and hopeless for once." Lagoona winced. "Is that selfish?"

"I think we all deserve to be a little bit more selfish." Frankie's neck bolts buzzed. "Plus, we have to stop thinking of fighting for our lives as a bad thing. That mindset isn't gonna get us anywhere."

"And where IS it going to get us? What makes you so sure this is going to work? I need evidence if I'm going to be down here with the freedom fighters." Cleo said.

"Aw, come on, Cleo! Who's the one who secured us this very meeting spot?" Frankie paused and raised her eyebrows, and when the other ghoul just stared at her, she continued. "It was you! You are smart and resourceful, and you were kind enough to share your info with us, and in my opinion, that definitely sounds like something that a good person would do. We're all good, smart, resourceful people, really, we just have to work on getting out of the old mindset."

Frankie grinned at Cleo's expression not looking so sour anymore after she said that.

Draculaura chimed in. "What else do we do until the arena day arrives? What can we do until then?"

Ghoulia said, "Have any of you been taking notes every day in class?"

The answer was a regretful "no".

"Lucky for us, I've been doing just that since I was young. I bet at least a little of the knowledge imparted to us in the classroom would come in handy in our stories. I'm not sure how much, but it couldn't hurt to review stuff."

"Great idea, Ghoulia!" Frankie patted the beaming zombie's shoulder. "We'll try and do that. Any other ideas?"

Clawdeen raised her hand. "What about looking at more tapes? Knowing what we're getting into beforehand is gonna be our greatest asset."

Lagoona shook her head. "If they've got our dorms on lockdown during lunch, they've probably got Helsing's office on double lockdown. We'd never get in again."

"Ugh. You're right."

Deuce tilted his head. "Tapes?"

"Yeah, they've got all our parents' stories recorded and kept in a storage closet in the administrative office." Clawdeen's eyes dropped to the floor. "We saw Draculaura's dad last time, but didn't get to anyone else before it got to be too much."

"Oh." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"What, something wrong? Other than the obvious."

"Nah, I just... I think I may know a little bit about what happens in mine. It'd be hard to watch, and I just got to imagining it, since that reminded me."

"You know something about your story?" Ghoulia leaned forward. "This could be useful, Deuce. What is it? How did you find out about it?"

"Uh, I can't remember, exactly. It was some comment a guard made once after I bumped into him on accident." He paused and his voice got quiet, trailing off before he could finish.

Cleo stepped a bit closer to Deuce, who was twiddling his thumbs nervously now. She shot a sideways glare at the zombie. "Could we talk about this another time?"

Ghoulia squinted her eyes a little, sensing the change in mood. "Sure. Besides, I wanted to mention some stuff I learned about the arena itself, anyway."

Clawdeen's ears perked up. "The arena? Where'd you get info on that?"

"There's a thin book about it in the library; it was sort of hidden between two other much bigger ones. Personally, I don't understand why they'd allow something like that in the library, but not fictional stories that have monsters in them. Anyway, the arena is really remarkable, looking at it from an outside standpoint..."

Ghoulia shuffled over to the whiteboard, picked up a dry erase marker and found a blank space to draw on. As she talked, she drew diagrams to illustrate her explanation. "It's big, but not nearly as big as you think it would be. What it does is it generates an artificial environment in a large dome for the stories to take place in. Everything inside the environment appears real, and is custom-tailored for each destiny. This is why we need to know as much about our own destinies as we can, since none of us are going to have the same experience at all."

The zombie didn't seem to notice the nervous reactions, and continued drawing arrows. "The audience is in stands surrounding the dome, and they see everything that happens as if it's a movie."

Draculaura leaned towards her. "You mean, it like, edits stuff as it goes along?"

"More or less. It knows how to pick cinematic angles and things like that, and when to focus on certain things. And that's not even the most intriguing part; it also has some sort of disposal system implemented, so that no cleanup afterward is necessary. It just wipes itself after the story is done and the hero has exited, and it begins preparing itself for the next story."

Cleo pursed her lips. "The way you just phrased that isn't exactly promising."

"As long as we exit with the hero, like Frankie's plan says, we should be fine, if that's what you're worried about."

Lagoona raised her hand, and Ghoulia nodded to her. "I think class is about to start again, love. We're about out of time for now."

"Oh, of course." Ghoulia erased her arena diagram. "That's about the gist of how the whole thing works, anyway."

Draculaura chewed on her naturally-pink nails. Her voice was wavering. "We have to go in there soon. It's only a couple weeks away now!"

As they began heading upstairs, Frankie gave everyone her usual reassurances that everything would be fine and that they would make it out alright, but she couldn't hide the apprehension in her own voice.

She tried not thinking about how they had no plan for what they would do afterward if they actually did escape, and told herself they would cross that bridge when they came to it. They just had to focus on surviving for now. There wasn't much else to do now except wait.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the wait between updates! New chapters on this fic may come slowly, but I really do have a plan for it; it's just a matter of being in a mood to write for it. I hope you guys will forgive me for the wack update schedule!

  
The weeks that followed were fraught with anxiety and uneasiness.

Classroom One tried meeting up again in the basement, but the key that had been hanging on the wall was gone now, leaving the lab permenantly locked to everyone but the staff.

This led to a panicked exodus by the seven teenagers from the hallway leading to the room, after which they sullenly returned to the lunchroom one by one. None of them looked at each other, terrified they would arise suspicion again.

Meetings were ruled out once again (which didn't really affect much, since they had talked about everything they could possibly talk about), so they stuck to Frankie's words about being kind and Ghoulia's words about paying attention in class. They had no other option during what would be their final days.

Big changes weren't happening yet, but the other students were noticing the little changes. Like how when someone bumped into a member of Classroom One, they would apologize instead of simply walking along like everyone else.

No, nothing big. Not big by a hero's standards, anyway, but to a school of monsters, it was huge.

Operetta stared at herself in the mirror for ages after Draculaura said her scars were pretty cute in the library one day. She had never before noticed how much they looked like music notes; beforehand, she ignored them as much as possible.

Spectra felt a warm sense of pride after being thanked by Lagoona when she helped her reach a book on the top shelf. After that, she floated a little higher along the halls instead of keeping at the same level as everyone else.

Abbey didn't feel as huge and intimidating anymore after Frankie had told her a joke in the lunch line. The petite green girl giggled while the yeti chuckled quietly, and she hesitantly cracked a joke right back. The guards had to shut them up.

Little boosts of confidence like this were happening every day, and Frankie noticed a change in the atmosphere. It was subtle, but it was there, and it gave her a burst of hope.

* * *

 

Cleo and Deuce continued their library visits, always daring to sit closer and closer each time. But, the closer they sat, the less they talked.

Deuce tried telling himself it was so they'd look less suspicious, but he didn't believe it. He seldom believed things he told himself. He thought he could make himself feel better with self-reassurances, but they only served to make him second-guess himself.

Therefore, he elected to bring it up in hushed whispers the day before the games started. He figured if he was gonna bring it up, it was now or never.

That Thursday, he planned to do just that as he stared blankly at a plant encyclopedia, one seat over from Cleo. It was the day before the final day, and their visit was much more strained than usual.

After a good twenty minutes of working up the courage, he finally spoke up beyond a small comment. “Hey, are you mad at me or something?”

She blinked, but didn't look up from her book. “What? No.”

“You haven't talked to me much the past week.”

“We didn’t talk much before.”

“Well, yeah, but I figured we–”

“We're friends? We are."

Deuce glanced over at her, and her fingers were gripping the corner of a page, but she wasn't turning it. "Yeah, we are."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I dunno, I just... wanted to make the most out of the last few days."

Now Cleo looked at him. Her eyes face was level, but her eyes had a softness to them. "I'm just appreciating the company."

Deuce adjusted his foot, and quickly retracted it when it nudged Cleo's on accident. They both looked back down at their reading material.

Cleo cleared her throat daintily. “It's not that I don't want to talk to you. I want to. I’m…I’m sorry. If you thought that I didn’t…. I’m sorry. I’m just scared by all this.”

“You mean the stuff that’s been happening, or me?”

“Both. It’s odd feeling emotions that aren’t horrible, and that's what happens when I'm around you. It’s odd talking about it, especially with the big day so close.”

“It’s weird for me, too. But I figure having people to talk to about it will make it less weird, for all of us, you know? That's kind of the point of what we're doing. You know... friendship.”

Cleo nodded, looking a little distracted. She hesitantly put her hand on his arm, and didn't retract her hand when his arm slightly twitched as a reflex. Neither of them were used to giving or receiving friendly gestures, but she figured this was in line with what they had been discussing. She figured, anyway.

They quietly returned to their original sitting positions as a staff member passed.

* * *

 

The sun rose on the final day before the monsters began entering the arena, and nobody acknowledged it. Nobody wanted to. The students were too close to falling apart, and the staff simply didn't care (aside from Headmistress Bloodgood, who stayed in her office).

Classroom One could hardly look at each other throughout class. Ghoulia alone tried to focus on class on that particular day, but not even she could make herself pay attention.

After class was over, they dispersed for the most part, but Cleo and Deuce kept to their regular library visit. Today, though, it felt much more strained than usual, especially after the conversation they shared the previous day.

The other ghouls stuck to their dorm room, watching the hours passed as they performed their usual routines. It could have been any other day to an outsider, but the sickness in the school was palpable to the monsters.

By six o'clock, everyone was back in their quarters, and lights out was at seven instead of eight like usual.

Frankie thought she would be too jittery to fall asleep, but she felt her body ache for sleep the moment she laid down. Before she fell asleep, she wondered if she had been fed something to force her to sleep in the food at lunch, but she didn't know any kind of sedative that could do such a thing. Not with such impressive timing, anyway.

She didn't try and resist as she felt herself slipping into dreamland, and she hoped her friends didn't, either. It was only helping them fall asleep, after all; it was kind of the least the staff could do.

* * *

 

When Frankie woke up, she heard low murmuring by voices that didn't belong to her roommates. She was also lying on a cold stone floor.

It took her a moment to absorb the second fact; she had been in such a deep sleep that she didn't notice she had changed locations, even though it was significantly less comfortable. As soon as her brain began waking up, she groaned.

Just then, she was shushed by Draculaura's squeaky voice. The vampire whispered, "Frankie!"

Frankie opened her eyes, and was met with Draculaura looking down at her with worried eyes. Behind her was Clawdeen leaning against a nearby concrete wall, Cleo still laying down, and the rest of her class otherwise milling around or otherwise wringing their hands.

She looked behind her, and her heart began pounding as she saw the gray, stone room reached farther than even the lunchroom did. But the even more shocking sight was the immense amount of other students scattered throughout the prison.

It wasn't just Frankie's class in this mystery place, it was _everyone_ , and everyone looked as confused and frightened as Frankie felt.

Two staff members stood on either side of the only exit, their arms holding stun weapons and their faces hidden by goggles. They were surveying the students, and they didn't look like they'd be very friendly if anyone tried anything out of the oridinary.

Frankie's silent staring was interupted by Draculaura speaking to her again. Her voice was low, which sounded odd with its natural pitch. "Frankie, we all woke up here. I think they took us here while we were asleep."

She looked back at her friend and furrowed her brow, looking at Cleo. "Is Cleo still--"

"She's awake, I think. Just shutting her eyes."

Cleo's face stayed eerily still as she responded. "It's better than looking at this room."

Ghoulia was to the mummy's right side, and she was studying the area with an intensity that was both curious and fearful at the same time. " _We've been taken to a room under the arena. I remember reading about it. This is where we're kept until it's time for our individual stories._ "

Clawdeen ran her claws through her hair, trying to fix it to no avail. "How long are we gonna be down here?"

" _It's hard to be certain. Finishing everyone's stories could take weeks; the heroes make a whole event of it._ " Ghoulia's eyes were staring at something that wasn't there; she looked as if could have been solving floating math problems. " _The entire arena is a technological marvel when you think about it. I still haven't been able to figure out how it cleans up after itself, how it chooses what angles to show--_ "

"Would you shut up?" A werecat named Toralei hissed at Ghoulia's musings. "It's bad enough we're stuck down here, I don't wanna think about what's waiting for me."

Lagoona glared from her position beside Clawdeen. "Leave her alone, mate. We've all got our own ways of coping."

Ghoulia shrugged. " _Deconstruction of the problem helps me, but I'll stop if it's distressing others._ "

Deuce, who was to Cleo's left, ran a hand through his snakes, which were much less active than usual. "I'll try any sort of coping at this point."

Frankie pursed her lips and glanced back at the guards, the pit in her stomach worsening.

* * *

  
The monsters were left in the room long enough to fall asleep again. Cleo griped about how the humans had brought them to an empty cube without plans to immediately get the show on the road, but there wasn't much else left to talk about.

So, they slept. They didn't know what time it was, but they weren't concerned about that.

And, at noon, Draculaura was awoken from her already uneasy sleep by two pairs of large, beefy hands pulling her up by her arms.

It took her a moment to register what was happening, the hands gripping tighter and tighter as she blinked awake. It wasn’t long before she started shrieking, and a third pair of hands tied a blindfold around her eyes with alarming quickness.

She tried twisting her arms and kicking her legs in an effort to escape, but every time she moved, they gripped even more violently. She began to hear others shouting and protesting to be more gentle, but she couldn’t see anything.

She felt her feet dragging on the floor as she struggled, so she knew they were taking her somewhere. After a moment, she heard a deafening slamming noise, and her classmates’ screams were cut off. Her own screams, however, continued. She knew what was happening, and the thought of it sent her into flight mode.

Her urge to fight back died as someone grabbed her lower arm and forcefully held it out in front of her. She felt a sharp pain in her skin where what felt like a needle was being stuck in.

She immediately began feeling drowsy. Tears began to stop flowing behind the blindfold as she fell to her knees and her muscles went limp. She felt the hold on her arms loosen as she passed out.


	9. Chapter 9

Draculaura's consciousness returned slowly, her head pulsing (even though she had no blood; it was a leftover reflex) for what seemed like an eternity. She was leaning on what felt like a huge slab of cold stone, and she didn't care to try and sit down anywhere until she could open her eyes long enough.

Eventually, she reached that point, and she finally opened her eyes despite the ache in her head. Once she did, it took everything in her not to faint again.

Stretched out in front of her was the most beautiful landscape she had ever seen. The silver moon seemed like it was the biggest it had ever been, and it cast a soft glow across the pines and mountains sprawling below her. It was haunting. The most faint-worthy part of this scene was that Draculaura was, in fact, on a ledge overlooking a very steep drop into the forest below.

Despite this, she couldn't tear her eyes away from the hills, the trees, the moon, anything. She felt an indescribable emotion, a positive one.

Is this what it felt like to belong somewhere? To feel like you had a home? This gloomy, picturesque place felt like it could be home. It was beautiful.

She bit her lip. Of course it did. She remembered now, she was in her story.

Looking behind her, she saw an ornate bedroom inside the balcony door, not at all unlike some of the rooms she had seen depicted in storybooks. The only difference was that this one was a lot more gothic, and it featured a coffin instead of a lavish canopy bed.

Her cape trailed behind her as she walked back inside and caught a glimpse of her outfit in the mirror, walking all on its own without her reflection to accompany it. It was a suit, one that vaguely matched the theme of the room she was in; it was mostly black, with some magenta accents. The cape had a magenta underside, as well.

Draculaura liked it. Normally, she was a ghoul who leaned towards frilly dresses, but this was kinda frilly, too. In its own way. She wished her friends could see her.

And, upon remembering her friends, her mood dropped and her anxiety raised.

She took a moment to hold back tears and stand up straight. That wouldn't do them any good. She had to focus on herself right now, on her own story; nobody else's would start until hers was over. They took turns. She knew that.

With this in mind, she exited the bedroom through the only door she saw other than the one to the balcony. Her heart was pounding out of her chest, but she wasn't going to get anywhere cooped up in a bedroom.

She spent a good few minutes wandering the unfamiliar halls, all of them gloomier than the bedroom, and all of them lit with torches. She had taken one to get closer looks at the paintings and small gargoyles that lined the walls, since the place was so dimly lit.

The paintings were all of various noblemen and women, and not a single one of them was smiling with their teeth. Judging by their pallid skin, Draculaura guessed she knew why. Was this her family, the line of vampires that had been here before her? Was her painting going to be here one day?

She thought about how Frankie had reacted to the video of her father's story -- no, his death -- and a chill ran through her bones.

Just as this horrid thought passed through her head, she heard the sound of footsteps echoing from further down the hallway. Her head snapped towards it, but she couldn't see a thing; her torch's light didn't reach that far.

She panicked. Looking around frantically, she realized she had walked so far from the bedroom now that she wouldn't be able to remember the way back through the unfamiliar twisting passageways. This only increased her anxiety.

Almost as if it were a reflex, a puff of pink smoke surrounded her in a small explosion as she transformed into a bat. It took her a moment to get her bearings, but flying was only awkward for a second; she was glad that she adjusted quickly, since her transformation had been more of an automatic to her fear rather than a choice she had made, and it caught her off guard.

She hadn't even realized she could do this. They  _had_ mentioned in her orientation they'd gain some powers in the arena that they weren't able to use at Stormy Night High due to the anti-magic barriers surrounding the school, so maybe this was one of them.

Draculaura didn't have time to be shocked, because as soon as she turned bat, the torch clattered to floor (thankfully landing on the stone and not the carpet), and the footsteps were advancing in her direction now.

Without thinking, she flew up higher, retreating into the darkness out of the light's reach. Her feet took purchase in an irregular patch of stone, and she securely hung upside-down there. Her trembling wings wrapped themselves around her as the footsteps' owner revealed themselves.

A girl, about Draculaura's age (her mental and physical age, anyway), came across the abandoned torch on the ground, and stopped running. She was breathing heavily, her forehead dotted with sweat and her chest rising and falling. Her blonde hair was gathered in a no-nonsense ponytail, and her expression conveyed the same ideal, but her outfit said otherwise. Her shirt was a ruffled button-up in a leopard print, and her boots were to die for. She even had red lipstick. It couldn't have been a comfortable getup to be running around a castle in.

The girl knelt down and picked up the torch with a tan hand, examining it. She let out a hoarse laugh. "I expected more."

She stood up and looked around, sighing harshly when she remembered she couldn't see very far ahead. "I know you're here somewhere, vampire."

Draculaura stopped breathing.

"I'm going to find you one way or another! I know you're nearby, so you should just come out and face me!" Her theatric voice was booming now, and the hall was echoing so loudly it made Draculaura's sensitive bat ears hurt.

Draculaura pondered her options, ignoring the rapidfire beating of her heart. Should she sneak along the darkness of the ceiling, trying to make her way back to her room to regroup? Should she show herself and just hope that this girl wouldn't attack her on sight?

She jumped as the girl threw the torch aside and the clanging made a terrible noise.

The stranger pulled something from her backpack, but she was so far down it was hard to tell what kind of contraption it was. "I am Lilith van Helsing. You must have heard my name by now. Monster hunting is in my blood, after all. My ancestors have been killing your kind for ages." There was a nasty edge to her voice, like she was trying to sound arrogant, but she was too frustrated to come across as completely confident.

Van Helsing. The administrator's... daughter? Draculaura shrunk in on herself. She would definitely try and get back to her room now.

Before she could move, she heard Lilith groan in frustration. "What will it take? I know you're here somewhere."

Lilith reached into her pack again, pulled out a dagger, and slashed her palm without a second thought. She gasped lightly in reflex, but regained her composure. Sticking her hand in the air and looking around desperately as she discarded the dagger beside her, she said, "Are you coming out now? Are you hungry, you abomination?"

That did it. Draculaura already was at a tipping point with her fear, and this pushed her over the edge.

She felt her stomach lurch (it was weird being a bat and having your stomach lurch), and her grip on the stone weakened. She was falling before she realized it, and flapped her wings to try and correct herself.

Lilith's trained ears heard this easily, and she aimed the contraption directly at Draculaura, who was now slowly fluttering down. "There you are!"

Draculaura turned humanoid again as she touched the ground, and she turned her eyes away from Lilith. "Oh, gosh..."

"See, I didn't cut corners like my father. I came straight here to face you." Lilith's back straigtened, and she shook some drops of blood off her hand, obviously proud of herself. "I'll let you have first strike."

"I... I ca-- I can't...."

"Can't what?" She narrowed her eyes. "Shouldn't this put you in a frenzy?"

Draculaura dared to take another glimpseat Lilith, only to see her holding her palm out towards her again. Now that she was seeing the wound up close, it was ten times worse than she thought. She had never seen so much blood this close before, not in the cafeteria and certainly not from an open wound.

Draculaura's face paled even more than it was already pale, and she felt her legs grow weak.

Lilith frowned, her expression one of utter confusion and frustration as the vampire fell to her knees, losing consciousness for the second time that day.


	10. Chapter 10

Draculaura woke up in the same spot she fainted in.

Rubbing her eyes, annoyed at her headache, she looked around, trying to remember what had happened, and felt herself startle slightly when she saw Lilith sitting against the wall a few feet away from her. She was whittling away at a wooden stake.

Oh, yeah. That.

Draculaura pushed the image of Lilith's hand out of her mind and started to sit up. As she groaned, the other girl looked at her with an eyebrow up.

Lilith said, "How the mighty have fallen."

Draculaura grimaced. "I wouldn't call myself mighty. But I'm kinda scrappy, I think."

"Enough banter. Are you done with your power nap?"

"How long was I--"

"At least thirty minutes. Maybe an hour." Lilith scowled at the wall opposite of her. "Didn't they teach you at the monster school about integrity? What kind of vampire doesn't like blood?"

Just the sound of the word made Draculaura's head spin for a moment. "They didn't teach us much of anything at all, actually."

"Whatever. I didn't come here to hear a monster's life story."

Lilith stood up and flipped the stake in her hand.

Draculaura put her hands up in a plea. "Wait! I don't want to hurt you!"

"Of course you don't."

"Why would I want to hurt you if I'd just get sick again?"

Lilith frowned. "I don't know. That's just how it works. We have to fight for the story to go on the way it was meant to."

Draculaura stood up, straightening her cape on her shoulders. "I know, I know, but... what if we just talked? Can we just talk this out? I promise I won't hurt you."

"Ugh!" Lilith threw her hands in the air in frustration. "You're not doing this right! I even gave you the first strike, and you didn't even frenzy. I could have stained my shirt."

"Is there _really_ a right way to do it? Could we just skip the fighting?"

Lilith pressed her temples with her fingers, still holding a loose grip on the stake. "My uncle said this would be the greatest moment of my life. The role of a lifetime, following in his footsteps."

Draculaura blinked and tilted her head. "Your uncle?"

Lilith rolled her eyes. "Yes, my uncle. He's only the administrator of your school."

"He's not your dad?"

"Absolutely not. My father was a part of this story years ago, but he died in it. Turns out he wasn't meant to be the hero after all."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that."

She scoffed. "Don't be. I never met him. He was only a little older than me when he and my uncle began their destinies."

"That is strange, though." Draculaura began pacing, ignoring the other girl's eyes on her. "I've never heard of destinies being inherited from an aunt or uncle. Only from a parent."

"Well, it happened to me."

There was silence for a moment as the two girls stared at the floor.

Draculaura looked up, her eyes wide. "I never really got to know my father either. I wish I had gotten a chance to, but monsters don't get that."

Lilith ignored the last statement, unsure whether to be uncomfortable with the sentimentality or not. "I'm close to my uncle. He taught me everything I know."

Draculaura pointed at the other girl's leopard print shirt. "Including killer fashion sense?"

Lilith looked down at her outfit, and let out a small chuckle despite herself. "I'll give you that one."

"Don't you ever wonder what your father was like?"

Lilith huffed. She clearly didn't like all these personal questions. "Not particularly. All I know about him is that he died in his story, so his fate was unexpected." She paused for a moment, and her eyes widened, her grip tightening on the wooden stake. "And I'm his daughter..."

Draculaura's brow furrowed. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Are you worried your fate is going to be unexpected, too?''

Lilith's eyes were like fire. "If you attack me, I won't hesitate. I've been trained in combat since I was able to walk, and I've got a crossbow, so don't try and fly away, either."

So that's what that contraption was. Draculaura put her hands up again, trying to seem as friendly as possible. "I made a promise, and I intend to keep that promise. As long as you don't cut your hand again, we should be fine."

"That hurt, you know."

"It must have." Draculaura took a tenative step forward, trying to keep her body language friendly. She felt like she was getting somewhere. "I didn't mean unexpected like that. I just meant, maybe this story could end nicely."

Lilith frowned again. "It was going nicely until you went against the story."

"I think it's still going well!" She smiled. "Like I said earlier, we could just...relax for a bit, you know. I'd rather be friends with you than fight you."

"Where on Earth did you pick these weird ideas up?"

"Oh, you know...around." Draculaura changed the subject. "You know, I think you pull off the leopard print even better than your uncle."

Lilith unconsciously stood a bit straighter. "He started the trend, but it looks so nice against my eyes, don't you think?"

"Totes!"

"Alright. You know what? I'll give you one day."

"One day?"

"One day." Lilith slid the stake into a holster on her belt, leaving it there for easy access. "I'll give you one day to convince me I shouldn't just kill you and be done with it."

Draculaura smiled. It wasn't a perfect outcome, but it was progress. "Are you sure?"

"Shake on it before I change my mind."

Draculaura took confident strides towards Lilith, beaming as her pink hand grasped Lilith's tan one and they shook on the deal with one dainty, yet firm motion.

And, as if it were waiting for the cue of the girls' handshake, the stones in the walls began blinking out of existence, one by one.

Draculaura noticed first, and gasped in shock, backing away from the closest wall to take solace in the middle of the room. Once Lilith saw, her expression, which had begrudingly become softer over the past few minutes, turned back into a scowl.

She flung her hand towards the wall, gesturing to it. "Look what you've done! I was afraid something like this might happen, but I gave you the benefit of the doubt!"

"What?! What did I do?"

"You broke the arena! The story's ending, and we can't be more than an hour in!"

"It's ending?" Draculaura's mouth hung open, and her hands were placed over it, as if something was going to escape the ever-growing gaps in the walls and enter her lungs.

More and more of the stone hallway faded, leaving behind nothing but a black void, and all the while, Lilith was pacing and holding her head in her hands. "Barely an hour in, and it's not because I killed her quickly, either. Disgraceful. What's my uncle going to say about this?"

Within a minute, the entire hallway was gone (including the floor), and there was nothing but pitch black as far as Draculaura could see, but it wasn't exactly _dark_. It was just like she and Lilith were suspended in an endless black room.

She looked around, mouth still agape. "Is this what Ghoulia meant about the arena cleaning up after itself?"

"Who the hell is Ghoulia? But yes, this is what the arena does when a story is over. It 'cleans up after itself', as you say." Lilith crossed her arms. "The exit should be appearing..."

As she was speaking, a white door flickered into existence not too far from them, and Lilith nodded. "Right about now."

Draculaura looked at Lilith, her face creased in worry. "What do we do? Should I walk out with you? Where does it lead?"

"It leads to a backstage area, and from there, I go greet the masses. Or, I suppose,  _we_ go greet the masses now." The scowl was back. "But you can't go out there."

"Why not?"

"One, I can't leave this arena with my fans thinking I'm a coward."

"So you were planning to kill me anyway?"

"Unimportant. Two, there's no telling what they'd do to you out there, especially considering the conversation we just had. Heroes and monsters don't get along, not for any reason, and nobody's going to react well if you come out of here alive."

"What are we going to do, then?"

"I'm not sure. And we can't stay in here much longer. The cameras have definitely shut off by now, so nobody can hear us, but they'll come get me if I take too long, and I don't think they should see you."

"Hmmm...." Draculaura bit her lip, nearly breaking the skin. "Could I hide somewhere?"

"I don't--actually, you know what?" Lilith tossed her pack on the ground and opened it. "Go bat and hide in here. I'll take you to my uncle's house and hide you in the basement levels until I figure out what to do with you. Nobody ever goes down there because the house is so big."

It was Draculaura's turn to frown now. "Hide in your backpack? In bat form?"

"Do you want to get caught by the guards or not?"

Draculaura sighed. Her mood had went up at the prospect of being friends with Lilith, but now it had dropped to an odd limbo area. She had a chance to escape (an undignified chance, but a chance), and it was with a girl who she didn't know if she could trust.

She didn't have a choice, though. It was either go with Lilith or stay here and possibly be wiped from existence along with the castle. She was mostly happy the arena didn't wipe her automatically just for being a monster.

"Alright, but ditch the garlic, the crucifix, and the holy water. I can't really travel with those."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Lilith's idea of the story isn't really faithful to Bram Stoker's novel, but try not to think too hard about the canonical accuracy of this fanfic to the original stories like Dracula and Frankenstein. I'm just writing for fun!


	11. Chapter 11

Van Helsing and Bloodgood sat side by side in front of a large screen, watching Lilith receive her fans after exiting the arena. The giant television cast a glow over them both.

Bloodgood hadn't made a single noise since Draculaura's story had begun. She couldn't find any words to say--not any that she could say around the humans, at least.

She was afraid, Intrigued, but afraid.

The administrator was murmuring with one of the guards, keeping his eyes on his neice as she smiled that signature van Helsing smile. "There's no sign of her?"

The guard shook his head. "No, sir."

"Hmph." The administrator sat back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "I don't buy the vampire disappearing, but this is unprecedented."

"We're ready to act when you are, sir."

"No, don't act yet. It'll arouse suspiscion. Just keep an eye out for the monster, but don't make it an ordeal just yet. We have to find out whether she was wiped or not before we cause mass hysteria."

The guard nodded, and left the viewing room as van Helsing dismissed him.

The corners of van Helsing's mouth were pointing down, and his brow was heavy set. He looked like he didn't know whether to be outraged or worried. "What do you think, Bloodgood?"

"I don't know what to think, administrator."

On screen, Lilith accepted a medal after setting her bag on the ground. Bloodgood didn't call attention to how gently Lilith seemed to be handling her belongings.

* * *

 

Back in the holding area below the arena, the other monsters were still waiting. Some of them had fallen asleep, huddling as close together as they could without getting reprimanded.

It couldn't have been more than two hours after Draculaura was taken that they guards began walking around the monsters again to reach the next target: a sleeping mummy who had a single hand clutching the gorgon's.

Cleo was jolted awake when she was pulled up by two gaurds. She didn't even have time to properly wake up as they ripped her and Deuce's hands apart and tugged her up. She reflexively tried tightening her hand's grip, but she was too slow; her fingers closed around empty air as her brain adjusted itself to what was happening.

After a moment, she put the pieces of the situation together, and didn't struggle. She couldn't bear to look back at the others at all, and tried to ignore any sound coming from them. Instead, her eyes turned to the guard on her left. "You don't have to be so rough, you know."

The guard sarcastically grinned at her and jostled her by the arm. She bit her tongue and resisted the urge to do or say anything she would regret.

Before she knew it, they were behind the same door that Draculaura had entered earlier, and Cleo was trying to put Deuce's voice out of her head, but it was hard when she had heard it telling the guards to be "cool" just moments ago.

They gave her the same procedure as Draculaura, and she winced when the needle entered her arm, but nearly gasped when they put the blindfold on her. "Wait, what? What are you doing?"

The blindfold made it dark all around her. No matter where she looked, it was a void. Her breathing became shallow despite the injection's oncoming effect, and she felt the dark collapsing in on her. Now she wanted to struggle, but she couldn't move her limbs.

The only thing she could do was try to breathe as she passed out in the guard's hold.

* * *

 

When she woke up, the blindfold was gone, but the pitch black darkness was still there. Her heart seized up again as if she had never been injected with sedative.

Trying to move, she found she was covered head to toe in wraps – not her usual ones, but scratchy ones that had an odd scent, sort of like old paper. Something heavy was pulling at her neck, and her arms were crossed over her chest. When she tried lifting them, she couldn’t stretch them out very far before they bumped into a barrier.

_Oh, Ra,_ she thought. _Of course. This is a sarcophagus. I am trapped inside._

Her first impulse was to begin screaming, but she tried composing herself like she had practiced. She began to think. How would she get out of this thing? She wasn’t about to wait around for some second-rate "hero" to come excavate her.

She tried moving a little bit, and noticed the sarcophagus wasn’t on an entirely flat surface; the floor was likely rough and uneven. Maybe she could tip the thing over?

Rocking side to side did, in fact, make the thing wobble back and forth. It startled Cleo when it came close to falling over, but she reminded herself that this was the goal, and began rocking again.

Sure enough, the heavy casket fell and the breath was knocked out of her. It was louder than the mummy had braced herself for, but when she reached out, her hand was able to stretch farther this time. The force must have knocked the top open.

Cleo crawled her way out of the coffin. She was out now, but there were still wraps covering her face, so the dark wasn’t gone quite yet. Resisting the urge to panic, she pawed at her head with her wrapped hands (it was like she was wearing mittens) and found a loose end to pull at.

Once her head was free, her hair fell around her shoulders and she gasped in relief as she looked around. The room she was in was the most beautiful one she had ever seen; there was more gold and lapis lazuli lining the room than she could have imagined existing, and hieroglyphics ran across the walls. Even the exterior of the sarcophagus behind her looked shinier than anything she had ever seen.

Looking closer at the thing around her neck, she saw it was a pendant of some kind. There was a medallion with a large blue stone in the middle, and Cleo swore she could hear the faintest humming coming from it.

Despite the beauty of the place where she woke up, her heart was still pounding a mile a minute. There was no visible exit, and there was nothing for her to work with besides the glistening treasure that was scattered around, and the box where she woke up. In any other circumstance, she would have been over the moon at all her new things, but she would have time for them later; for now, she needed to focus on the situation. She scoured the walls, pounding on them and shouting for help, looking for any possible opening she could find.

This went on for quite a while, yielding no results. She sat on the steps that led up to where the sarcophagus was previously standing upright and tried to control her breathing, which was getting rapid and shallow again. There was no escape in sight.

* * *

 

She spent the next thirty or so minutes in this state of helplessness, and she was about to begin screaming just to hear some kind of noise when the room interrupted her.

  
The entire tomb seemed to groan as the walls trembled and slowly began to split open at the spot across from where Cleo’s sarcophagus was supposed to be standing. Cleo backed up a few steps, but she had nowhere to hide. Except for the thing she had woken up in, but it was too heavy for her to stand back up in time.

She straightened her back. Whoever her hero was must have been the one to open it; it probably opened from the outside.

She could feel the sound reverberating in her bones as the walls parted enough for her to see that there was, in fact, someone else here.

It was a boy, about her age, dressed in a beige button-down shirt that was unbuttoned at the top and that was probably white in hue before this all started. He had a hat on for some reason (though it seemed incredibly impractical), a knife on his belt, and a torch raised in his left hand. He had a stone cold expression, like he was trying to look intimidating.

His eyes scanned the room, widening a bit at the shimmering treasure, until they landed on Cleo, whose hands were on her hips. Neither of them spoke for a moment.

Cleo said, “Well, you took long enough.” She thought maybe if she acted like she hadn’t just been calming down from a panic attack, she would seem less pathetic.

The boy looked bewildered, and Cleo noticed he was eyeballing the amulet. The dots connected in her head. “What, is this what you need?”

“Uh…”

She took it off and tossed it at his feet. “There you go. I don’t want it. It keeps humming.”

He took a step back, obviously suspicious. “Didn’t expect you to be able to talk. Or to have skin that isn’t turning to dust.”

“I didn’t expect you to be so boring, so it looks like we’re both exceeding expectations today.”

The boy gripped the torch like a weapon. “Why should I believe you would just give me the Medallion without defending it?”

“Why  _would_ I defend it?”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re bluffing. This is the fake one. The real one is around here somewhere. You must have riddles and clues to tell me where it is, if you’re not going to attack me.”

Cleo rolled her eyes. “Look, I just want out of here. Believe it or not, I have friends to check on, and you’re not exactly speeding things along.”

“Hah! Now I know you’re trying to trick me.” He sidestepped the amulet and approached her. “Just tell me where the real Medallion is.”

The torch getting closer made her more conscious of her wraps. “Be careful with where you hold that thing! I told you that’s the real one, I gave it to you, now take the Ra-damn thing and we’ll be on our separate ways!”

She ducked on the opposite side of the torch hand and grabbed the amulet from the floor, holding it up to his ear. “Listen! It’s been doing this the entire time I’ve been here!”

He stood for a moment before turning to face her, looking like he was concentrating on the humming. “It’s like my textbook said. So… you weren’t lying.”

Cleo groaned. “Is it truly that hard to believe?”

“That’s not what you’re supposed to do.”

“Oh well. We’re both still in one piece. Now, it’s been divine, but I’m going to find my way out. It should be an easy trail to follow, if you desecrated the rest of the tomb like you did with that wall.”

He took the amulet from her hand and stared at it, like he was expecting something to happen when he made contact with it. “Yeah. Uh, okay.”

Cleo didn’t look back as she slipped through the newly formed door.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry the updates for this are so few and far between. I really do have an end goal for this story, it's just a matter of when I feel up to writing, which isn't that often lately. I can't promise a good update schedule, but I want to thank everyone for your reviews and kudos and your support for this fanfic so far. It means a whole lot!

It didn't take much effort for Cleo to find her way out of the tomb. The boy had left a clear path for her to go through, leaving disarmed traps to guide the way. This, coupled with her building restlessness from the claustrophobia, meant she was able to move quickly.

The entrance was still open when she reached it. She rolled her eyes. He couldn't have even bothered to shut the door behind him.

As she stepped out of the tomb, her bare feet were met with a terrain she had never encountered before, but that she immediately recognized.

Sand. Sand that was hot from being under a sweltering sun, but sand nonetheless. The combination of this and the sun on her skin made her feel at ease for a few moments. It felt like a home that she had never been to.

Cleo stood for a moment, digging her toes into the sand and looking around. There wasn't much near the tomb (which, now, she saw was a pyramid); in fact, there wasn't anything at all. As far as she could see, it was just endless desert. The only thing she noticed that stood out were a set of footprints in the sand left by boots, undoubtedly the boy's.

And even _that_ didn't go very far out. She followed the trail, but it didn't go very far beyond the tomb's entrance. It was like the hero had just materialized in the middle of the desert.

Could they do that? Was the arena capable of teleporting people?

Before she could ponder anything further, an echoed scream faintly reverberated from where she had came from. The voice belonged to the boy who had she had just encountered. He was calling for help.

Her initial instinct was hesitance. She had just left the tomb, why would she want to go back in? And wasn't the hero supposed to be able to take care of themselves? What if it was a trap, trying to lure her back in so he could..

Cleo gritted her teeth. Her friends wouldn’t be having an internal debate with themselves if they were in her situation, if someone could possibly be in danger. No, she had to be the person Frankie told her she could be, the person that Deuce believed she already was, even though she clearly wasn’t and didn’t know if she would ever be, despite how highly she thought of herself.

Every cell in her brain screamed at her to stay right where she was, but the sick, guilty feeling in her heart and the faces of her friends lingering in her thoughts made her turn back and run for the voice.

 

* * *

 

  
After backtracking and running past the room she had been trapped in, she entered a doorway and was immediately greeted with a long, tiled hallway.

Some of the tiles were normal, and some had spears jutting from them. One space where a tile should have been was occupied with a pit, and Cleo saw a single set of fingers peeking over the edge. She called, “Hello?"

The boy’s voice was coming from that pit, much louder now. “Is that you, monster?! Are you still there?!”

“Am I going to get impaled if I walk in here? I'm not invincible, you know."

"No! All the traps are set off now, just walk over here!” He sounded physically strained.

She decided to trust him since it seemed unlikely he’d lie to her now, and walked over to the pit a bit more slowly than she could have, since she wasn’t going to take any chances with the traps.

Once she reached him, she looked down at him. "And why should I help you? Give me a reason."

"Please!"

Cleo stared for a second, and then sighed. Proving that monsters weren't heartless was reason enough, she reminded herself, even if he _did_ have something planned.

She reached down and pulled him up, complaining that he shouldn't hold on so tight (she was a _corpse_ , she was fragile), but still managing to get him up.

He brushed himself off and looked at the ground. "Thanks, I guess."

Cleo glared. "You guess?"

"I don't know, I didn't expect you to come back here."

"Oh, so the big, strong hero can't pull himself up? He needs the monster to come back and do it for him?" The word 'monster' came out like she was spitting poison.

He glared right back. "Listen, I would have died, and I already said thank you, so."

"Whatever. I just thought you were trained for this kind of thing."

"I _am_ trained, alright?" He turned and walked further into the room. "Now drop it!"

Cleo scoffed and followed him. "Now that I'm in here, I may as well see what all the fuss is about. What did you need that necklace for? And I don't even know what your name is."

His mood immediately changed when asked about the plot device. He reached into his pocket and pulled it out, admiring its glow. "The Medallion looks pretty cool, but it's really just the key to the final chamber. That's where the real treasure is." He blinked. "Oh, and the name's Ian."

"Well, Ian, my name is Cleo, since you so graciously asked," she remarked sarcastically. She narrowed her eyes at him as he continued to admire the trinket. "So that thing isn't the end game here?"

"Not by a long shot. It's..." Ian looked up. "Wait, why am I telling you all this?"

Cleo grumbled. "You tell me."

"Well, if you're going to stick around, I'm headed for the treasure room. Leave, or don't."

Ian headed for the room's exit, and Cleo stared for a moment before she went to follow him. May as well, she figured.

She felt a bit offended that she hadn't been the final boss, though.

* * *

 

After a while of interviews (Draculaura lost track of how long; it could have been thirty minutes or several hours), Lilith had made her way back to her house. She didn't say anything to Draculaura until they were in the basement, away from prying eyes.

Lilith entered one of the downstairs storage rooms and took off her backpack, setting it down before opening it. She peeked in through the zipper. "You can come out now."

Draculaura peeked her head out of the opening, and fluttered away a few feet away before leaving her bat form. A fang nervously dug at one of her fingernails. "You're sure this place is safe?"

"Yes, for now, at least. Nobody ever comes down here, and they'd never check the Van Helsing mansion for a missing monster, anyway. A monster would think it's too dangerous." Lilith pointed at the boxes. "Stay away from any containers, though. They might have stakes or garlic or something."

Draculaura pulled her legs up in front of her chest and away from a nearby crate. "So I'll have to stay in this room?"

Lilith shook her head. "Not for long. I'm going to un-monster-proof a servant bedroom down here and let you stay in there for a bit."

"You have servants?"

"Yes, but they're off-duty while the stories are going on, and there's some empty rooms anyway--"

Draculaura's heart rate would have spiked if it was beating at all. "The stories! My friends! Is there a TV here? I need to see them."

* * *

 

After Lilith had cleared an unoccupied bedroom for Draculaura's use, they were sitting on the bed, eyes glued to the TV.

Draculaura had cried a bit seeing Cleo on the screen, but kept trying to push the tears down. She was helpless right now, anyway; crying wouldn't do her any good. She could do nothing but watch now.

She wasn't sure how Cleo had done it, but she was with her hero now. They were in some kind of tomb, navigating traps and working towards some sort of treasure. An ark of... an ark of something, the hero Ian had mentioned. The fact that he said it was made out of gold was good enough for Cleo.

Draculaura smiled at that, in spite of herself. She missed her friends, but she was sure they'd get out. Almost entirely sure. Almost.

Lilith watched Draculaura as much as she watched the story. The vampire seemed to actually be worried about the mummy.

She had learned about a thousand new things about monsters in the past day or so. It was a lot, alright, having your entire worldview shaken in the span of twenty-four hours.

Lilith wondered how much her world would change over the next day. Anything was possible at this point.


	13. Chapter 13

Draculaura and Lilith spent the next thirty minutes or so watching Cleo. Draculaura used this time to tell the hero all about the other monsters -- their names, their personalities, anything she could remember.

Lilith wasn't getting much talking in, and Draculaura noticed. It wasn't as if she was intentionally leading the conversation; the other girl wasn't exactly giving her detailed responses. Mostly one-word replies.

Draculaura pulled her knees up to her chest as she watched Ian try and figure out how his gold necklace would fit into the door as Cleo inspected her nails. She said, "Hey, Lilith. You're quiet."

Lilith's face didn't change. "And you've got a lot to say."

"Yes, but I wanna hear from you now. Conversations shouldn't be one-sided. Not entirely and all the time, anyway."

She scoffed. "What do you even want to hear?"

"I dunno. Hmm... tell me about the hero school." Draculaura got a faraway look in her eye. "I've always had sort of an image in my mind of what it's like. Not that I'll ever get to go."

"Well, there's not a whole lot to tell, honestly. We go to class, go to training, and then go home."

"But there's gotta be more to it than that." Draculaura swept her arm in front of her, gesturing to the room. "You said this is the servant's quarters, but this is nicer than anything I could ever ask for. It's got a TV, and this thick blanket on top of the bedsheets is so nice!"

"That's a comforter."

"It sure is."

They giggled, and Lilith continued. "It's different for everyone, I guess. My family comes from a long line of vampire hunters, so I've always lived in the lap of luxury, but some of the heroes are ordinary kids. They don't go to any sort of hero training, since their only job in their story is to form a mob or a riot, or to run away. They spend most of their time either studying or partying, depending on what their destiny is."

Draculaura tilted her head. "Doesn't that make those particular stories a little pointless, then?"

Lilith shrugged. "More and more things are seeming more and more pointless to me as the day goes on."

The two fell into a silence as the TV screen showed Ian and Cleo retrieving whatever the story's treasure was. As they both marveled at it, equally in awe, the screen faded to black, and the words "THE END" flashed in big, gold letters. What an anticlimactic ending.

* * *

 

Just as Cleo was finally getting on the same page as Ian, and they had reached the damn Ark of the Covenant (if Cleo had a gold coin for every time Ian mentioned the treasure or the Medallion or anything else, she'd be able to buy her way out of being a monster), there was  _another_ deep rumbling coming from the tomb's walls.

Cleo ripped her eyes from the golden artifact and looked at Ian. "Is that something to run from? Will we need to run from a gigantic boulder now? Because I haven't got any shoes on."

He shook his head. "Sounds like the arena shutting itself down."

"So the story's over?"

"Yep." He took his hat off and scratched his head. "It'll be cleaning itself up in a second."

Just like that, the tomb began vanishing like glass shards around them. It was an astonishing sight, the pieces of the room breaking away and floating upwards until they dissolved, leaving nothing but a black void behind.

It was jarring to Cleo, who hadn’t known what to expect. Ian, however, looked at the phenomenon like he recognized it. Of course he did, she thought; he was probably taught what the ending of the story would be like. She wasn’t supposed to reach this point.

Neither of them said anything as the setting finished disappearing. Cleo almost expected to feel her claustrophobia setting in because of the dark, but the void wasn’t quite the same as the actual dark was, since she could see Ian perfectly.

Cleo rolled her shoulders back and inhaled through her nose, her darkly shaded eyelids shutting. Ian studied her; she looked like she was about ready to face the entire world.

He looked away. It was still weird. Finding the Ark with the monster was still weird.

A door appeared in the void, and Cleo didn't seem to notice it until Ian began walking towards it. She stared at it. "So, what now?"

Ian shrugged. "I don't know, but the story's finished now. I've gotta go speak to the public while they're getting the arena set up for the next group."

She half-walked, half-ran over to the door, trying to look indignant. "Where am I going to go, then?"

"Not sure," He had stepped through the door now, and pointed to his right, down one side of the concrete hallway. "There should be a maintenance exit down that way, though. My uncle used to work in this place, so I know where stuff is. If you're quiet, nobody will notice."

She crossed her arms and scowled. "So you're just going to leave me to my own devices? After I saved your life?"

He rubbed his eyes. "Look, I'm grateful for that, really. But I can't walk out there with you. They're gonna kill you on sight, or worse."

"You haven't got any direction for me, then?"

Ian began walking down the left hallway. "Just keep your head down. Try and find Petra, or maybe Brooke. They're heroes like me. Brooke may be a safer bet, since Petra's up next, but she's also more reckless. Up to you." He waved. "Good luck, Cleo."

Cleo watched in disbelief as Ian disappeared around a corner, and then took a deep breath. She was not going to have another panic attack. Not here, not now. She needed to find a place to hide and, as Ian said, keep her head down.

She kept close to the wall as she ventured down the hallway on the right. Petra or Brooke. Humans. Heroes.

Maybe Cleo would just take her chances on keeping hidden for now. She didn't want to deal with any more heroes at the moment.

* * *

Back at the Van Helsing mansion, Lilith was preparing to head out, since staying in her house for too long would look weird. Suspicious, even.

Draculaura was pacing. The TV had already started playing Deuce's story. It was amazing how quickly they cycled through these things, like they were more of a scripted obligation than anything else. Well, they were, but still.

It made Draculaura tear up seeing her friend Deuce without his glasses. His eyes were shut so tightly that they had to be sore by now. Not to mention he was stuck on some rocky island, constantly trying to avoid uneven or sharp spots on the ground and things like that. She hadn't been the closest to him, but he was still her friend, and it sucked. It _sucked_.

She watched as his head perked up just the slightest bit, and he tore off a small section of the white chiton he was wearing, lifting it up to tie it around his eyes. Draculaura smiled. It was little adaptions like this that had got them through school, and that were now getting them through their destinies.

As Lilith locked the door behind her, Draculaura laid down on the bed, fighting off the urge to sleep. She wanted to stay awake as long as possible.

* * *

 

Deuce missed his glasses.

They dug into his skin sometimes, and he couldn't take them off when he went to sleep (or ever, since they were attached to his head), and he had never seen the world without it being tinted by a dark lens, but he missed his glasses.

This was the first time he had ever been without them. They had pulled him out from the basement a couple hours after they had taken Cleo, drugged him in what he assumed was the standard fashion, and he woke up on a rocky surface without anything attached to his head, wearing a drapey kind of Greek attire -- he knew it was called a chiton from one of the books he saw Cleo reading in the library. He wouldn't have picked up a book on clothes or fashion on his own, but since she did, he had absorbed a bit.

The light had been blinding when he opened his eyes. Even when he held them shut as tightly as he could, he could still feel the sun piercing through, the void behind his eyelids now red instead of black like normal. Even so, he had managed to get a few peeks at his surroundings by shading his eyes before he covered them with a ripped-off strip of fabric from his outfit.

He was on a small island. Waves crashed against cliffs and rocks, even though it wasn't storming. The only man-made thing on the entire island was a temple of some sort, full of stone statues. Their faces were frozen in fear.

He knew he hadn't been the one to stone them. He would have remembered. Still, the sight filled him with guilt, and he ran his fingers through his hair for comfort. His snakes were his only company.

That is, until he saw a boat approaching.

Deuce didn't notice it for a while, since his eyes were now covered by the cloth and he was spending most of his time so far just sitting outside the temple, twiddling his thumbs and waiting for something to happen. The thought occurred to him that this must be incredibly boring to watch, and it would have been boring for him to sit through if he didn't know someone was about to come with the intent to kill him.

He noticed the white sails when he got antsy enough to stand up and go look at the ocean for a moment. His heart clenched up upon seeing it. He had no clue how many people were on that thing. No clue how much time it would take for the boat to get here. No clue how fast they'd want to kill him.

He wordlessly retreated back towards the temble and in through its entryway. The gorgon didn't have the strength in him to show any physical sign of fear, but any of the monsters that knew him well would have been able to tell he was in panic mode.

So, Deuce found a spot in the temple to hide, crouching behind a larger statue near the back, and waited. The only sounds he could hear were his own heartbeat and the distanct sound of waves.

He waited, and waited, and waited. And after an indeterminable amount of waiting and waiting and waiting, he heard footsteps.

Deuce held his breath. His hero was here. What did he do? He didn't know what to do.

Did he say something? Did he show himself? He didn't exactly look the most human-friendly out of everyone he attended Stormy Night High with. He wasn't the most grotesque, but his skin was skill as tough as leather and covered in scales, he was pretty tall (the tallest of his friends), and there was also his hair situation. He subconsciously covered his mouth when he remembered his fangs. Would they scare the hero too much? He had to come across as friendly as possible if they were going to listen to him.

As Deuce's thoughts raced at a mile a minute, he heard his hero cough. The cough was small and meek, nothing like he had imagined his attacker.

A moment passed, and the hero's voice echoed through the high walls of the temple. "Hello?" Her voice cracked when she raised it, and a quiet groan of insecurity and displeasure escaped her.

Deuce didn't respond.

She waited a moment, and tried again. "Hello? I..." She paused. Was that a twinge of nervousness in her voice? She said her next words like she was repeating a script. "It... it is I, Petra, daughter of the legendary Perseus, slayer of monsters and..."

Deuce dug his fingers into his knees as he listened to her pause yet again. His hero -- Petra -- continued, her voice a bit higher this time, "Listen, don't startle me, okay? Just come out and fight." She fumbled, realizing she had just sounded scared, which apparently wasn't on the script. "Let's settle this."

Deuce felt a sudden surge of daring after hearing her voice falter. When he replied, his voice echoed as much as hers did, making it sound like he was everywhere at once. "Settle what? I've never met you."

"Well... you know." Her sword and shield clinked together and made her yelp.

"I dunno. You don't really sound like you want to fight."

"I don't." Petra caught herself again. "It's nasty business, you know... taking out a monster, and all... you know."

He was growing more and more hopeful by the second. His muscles released some of their tension as he crouched behind the statue. Was this going well? He couldn't tell. "Well, we don't really have to fight, do we?"

"Don't we?"

"There's only one way to find out, isn't there? We could just... like, hang, or something."

"Hang?" Her voice sounded a bit less squeaky now. "You're not trying to trick me into letting my guard down, right? Because hanging is something that the partygoers do. Not legacies."

"I don't know what that means, but I promise. No funny business. We can just stay where we are and talk for a bit. I haven't even got to come out." He hoped she wouldn't suggest that he did. He didn't really want to ruin the microscopic amount of trust he had built with the hero just because he didn't look human.

"No, the echoing is making my ears hurt. You should come out from wherever you're hiding. You know, if you want to." And there it was. "I'm keeping my sword unsheathed, though, and I'm going to look at you through my shield first. It's reflective, so I can make sure you're wearing eye protection, and you'll stone yourself if you aren't wearing any, so... I guess it's kind of a preventative measure."

Oh. So Petra knew what his powers were already. That made Deuce feel both a bit relieved and a bit embarrassed at the same time. "Sounds like a deal."

He waited a moment, and the girl said, "Okay, I'm ready. Come from the back wall. That's where the shield is facing."

Deuce stood up, stretched for a second to delay revealing himself, and stepped out.

He couldn't tell where, exactly, she was, but he hoped she could see him. He pointed to his face, bunching his shoulders in addition to try and seem smaller. "See? All safe."

The girl replied, "Alright."

She took a deep breath and (Deuce assumed) turned around. He didn't hear any footsteps towards him, and he picked at one of his scales awkwardly. He said, "The name's Deuce."

"I'm Petra. Well, you probably got that already." They both laughed weakly. "So, you mentioned something about talking?"


	14. Chapter 14

Deuce and Petra were now sitting on the cliffs overlooking the ocean. Well, Petra was overlooking the ocean -- Deuce could only overhear it, as it were. He really missed his shades.

They had made idle chitchat as she led him by the arm to that spot, but now they had slipped into conversations about friendships. He was glad she hadn't chopped his head off the minute she saw him, and he was positive that this was progress, but he didn't really want to focus on his friends right now. It worried him too much.

When she asked him about what the other monsters were like, he shrugged in response. "They're like me, I guess. I mean, none of us want to hurt anyone. We have different personalities. Probably not too different from your friends, actually."

Even with his eyes covered, Deuce could feel Petra's shift in mood. She set down her helmet beside her as she replied, "I haven't got that many friends, actually."

"Really? I would have pinned you as one of the popular kids."

"Really?" Her tiny voice was twinged with sarcasm.

"Well, I can tell you're kinda shy, so maybe not popular, exactly. But you're nice, and you're a Greek hero. That's one of the birthplaces of the idea of heroes, like, in general."

Petra made an 'I dunno' noise. "I've got a couple friends, I guess. I grew up with a girl named Lilith, since both of our guardians are big-name people. She's like family to me, but we've never been particularly close in any other way. And, I, uh... there's Red." Her voice raised in pitch. "We're friends, too."

Deuce smiled, but refrained from grinning, keeping his sharp teeth hidden when he could. "This Red's cool, huh?"

"She's always been really nice to me, yeah."

"Sounds like you think she's more than cool."

He heard her make a squeaking noise, and he put his hands up to show he meant no harm.

Regardless, she fired back quickly. So  _that's_ where her warrior instinct went. "What about you, then? You've got a lot of friends. There's gotta be one you think is _cool_."

Deuce scratched the back of his head. "Well, there's Frankie. She's the one who kind of brought us all together. And Draculaura, who talks so fast I can't understand her sometimes, but she's still nice. And Cladween --"

Petra poked his arm. "You know what I meant. It isn't fair that you get to tease me if I don't get to tease you."

He laughed, his face warming from both the friendly interaction with Petra, and from the reminder that he didn't know Cleo's fate yet. Gods, he hoped she was okay.

Conceding with a smile, he said, "Okay, my friend Cleo is _cool_. Happy?" He was sure to use the word 'is'. Not the word 'was'. He had to wait.

Petra could be heard pulling her knees up to her chest, her armor scraping a bit against the rock. “It's true, then. I never thought… oh. Nevermind.”

“What?”

“It’s going to sound rude.”

“I can handle it.”

“It’s just… I was always told monsters had no emotions other than anger and hatred. Especially not crushes.” Petra blushed, the kind of blush you get when you're wrong about something. "I know it's wrong for sure now, and I always doubted it, but it's pretty nice hearing it's not true. Sorry. That sounds awful."

“That’s alright. Us monsters were kinda told the same thing. And we believed it. _I_ believed it.” He scratched the back of his neck. “‘Til I started talking to her.”

Petra grinned. “That’s really cute.”

Despite the conversation, it was just making Deuce's anxiety flare up. His entire being seemed to sink a bit. “She's kinda closed off, but she doesn't take anything from anyone. If any of us were going to survive, it'd be her." He sighed. "She was the second one to go in, you know. I dunno if she’ll be waiting for me in the end or not.”

“She sounds brave. I’m sure she made it.”

“Yeah. It’s just… yeah.”

Petra curled up more and said, “Our time should be up soon. Then we both get to face what’s waiting for us.”

Deuce tried not to sound dismissive when he asked, “What could be waiting for you that’s bad?”

“My dad." It was Petra's turn to sigh. "I’m not really sure how he’ll react when he finds out I was too chicken to…uh… anyway. He knows I get scared a lot, and he told me once to think of him if ever I’m afraid, but…”

“But what?”

“ _He's_ what I’m afraid of. Not monsters, not battle. I'm scared of failing him. Being a disappointment. Not that he’d do anything bad to me, but I’ve went along with the hero training my whole life, and I think he thinks I enjoy it.”

Deuce frowned. "You should talk to him once we're out." He paused for a second, the gears turning into his head. His face got even warmer than it already was. "Wait, this is live, isn't it?"

It took a moment for Petra to choke out an answer. "... Yeah."

Deuce mentally kicked himself, and he was sure Petra was doing the same. He had enjoyed finally opening up to someone so much, he didn't stop to think about the countless people that were watching them right now. Cleo possibly included. Petra's dad, too.

He jumped as he heard Petra make a noise that could only be described as a distressed squawk. She grabbed his arm. "The arena's resetting!"

"It's what now?"

"The story's over!" They stood up, and she continued. "We're leaving. It's over. Just like that."

Deuce fought off the urge to take off his blindfold. "It's over?"

"Yep, and you're not dissolving like everything else, so I guess you're okay." Her voice was raising an octave with every sentence she spoke. "Oh, _Gods_. My dad's going to be out there at the closing ceremony. I've got the monster with me and he's still alive, and my dad's out there. I can't do this."

Deuce was too disoriented from everything to respond. He just walked wherever she led him, which happened to be through a door after a minute or so more of her nervous rambling. He couldn't articulate words. He was alive. His friends could be alive, and it was more likely than not that they had survived, if the arena didn't eat them as the default. It was nice knowing the arena didn't do that.

Petra led him through the door (where had that even come from?) and down a right turn. "I have to find Lilith. I've got a monster with me. She'll know what to do."

Deuce gathered himself, barely paying attention. "Closing ceremony?"

"Nope. Not going to that. They'll have to start without me. I know a secret exit. We'll take that. Take the alleys, the back streets. Find Lilith."

Whoever Lilith was, Deuce hoped she was as friendly as Petra.

* * *

 

Cleo hated sneaking around. She hated it more than she hated anything else at this particular moment.

It was filthy where she exited the arena, and it was filthy here. She had made it as far from the arena as possible without being seen, hiding behind whatever she could. But that was pretty damn hard. There were a  _lot_ of humans walking around, so she was stuck to alleys and the backs of buildings.

She hadn't made it very far from the arena within the hour, since she had to keep stopping for several minutes at a time, waiting for a human to leave whatever area she was in. It was _exhausting_ , and she had no clue where she was going. Her only hope was that she'd run into a certain pink bat by chance.

Luckily, the humans were now distracted with something -- something about a hero not showing up to receive their award. That must mean the next story was over, since she knew Ian had left to go receive his. They were really blowing through these things, weren't they?

Regardless, she was walking down the street behind a tall building, taller than anything she had ever seen (it must have been five stories, at least!), when she heard approaching footsteps.

Rolling her eyes and sighing in frustration, she hid behind a nearby wooden fence that concealed a back entrance to the building. She hoped nobody came in or out.

As the people got closer, she held her breath, making sure she wasn't detected. One of the people started speaking -- a girl. Her voice was small, if voices could be described as small. "Lilith's house isn't too much farther. She'll help me."

A voice responded, "You've said that already," in a patient tone, and Cleo's entire body froze. It was _Deuce_.

Her hands started shaking. Deuce and whoever he was with were coming right this way. She couldn't think, because he was alive, and she had to let him know that she was alive, but she didn't know how. She didn't recognize the other voice. It was probably a human, which was the last thing she needed.

There was no time to think. No time. She couldn't  _think_.

Right as the two passed, Cleo's hand automatically reached out and grabbed the back of Deuce's outfit, as if it were on autopilot. She tugged Deuce behind the fence she was using as cover. He protested “Hey–” but was cut off by her hand covering his mouth. Her instinct was to keep both of them hidden.

He instantly froze up, and guilt pricked Cleo's chest. The thought of her touch being anything other than a comfort to him made her heart ache.

Of course. He must have thought she was a human; he couldn’t see who she was due to his blindfold. Yeah, she hadn't thought this through at all.

She’d rip the blindfold off if he wasn't a gorgon.

Taking care not to be heard by anyone else, she put her hands on his shoulders and whispered, “Deuce, it’s me! You’re safe!”

“Cleo?” His shoulders relaxed. His voice broke as he whispered back, “You’re alive!”

“I’m so sorry I scared you, I just–” She was interrupted by him hugging her. She had never been hugged before. She could barely speak now, on top of not being able to think. “You’re alive, too.”

Their arms brushed together, and he noticed her wraps that she hadn’t bothered to change out of yet. “What the heck are you wearing? It’s more scratchy than our uniforms.”

“Ugh, don't remind me. And I could ask you the same question! You look like you stole the curtains from the dorms and made them into the world's most impractical robe.”

He smiled at her and she had never felt more relieved. As they pulled apart, she said, “I haven't seen Draculaura since they took her. Do you know anything yet?"

His smile was gone, and she immediately felt awful for making it go away. His hands fell to her shoulders as he replied, “No clue. A while after you were gone, they dragged me out the same way they did to you and Draculaura, and I woke up on an island, and… well, you know.” He paused. “Wait a second, did you see any of my story? There are people watching us during those, right?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t see anything. I tried, but there's been no screens. I’ve been stuck out here, worrying. It felt like forever. I’m going to get wrinkles before I hit adulthood at this rate.”

“Hey, if we were smart enough to get out of our stories, our friends are too. We’ll all come out of this just fine.” He tilted his head and his snakes let out a quiet hiss, and his voice lowered to the same level. “We made it through school before this whole thing started, didn’t we?”

“True, but it was still awful waiting. I felt like dying again. I don't even know if Draculaura's alive.”

“You're hiding right now. I'll be willing to bet she's hiding too, and we just have to find her."

Cleo waited for Deuce to continue his thought, but he was evidently finished with it.

He stepped a bit closer to her, and she saw he was smiling again. “Hey, wouldn’t happen to have any sunglasses on you, would you? It sucks not being able to see you.”

If she had a heart, it would have skipped a beat. “Oh, it must.” 

Out of nowhere, he inhaled sharply, like he was remembering something. "Oh, Hades, we have to find Petra!"

"What."

"Petra. She's the hero from my story, I was walking with her when you found me just now." He glanced over his shoulder reflexively, even though he couldn't see anything. "She was taking me somewhere, but she's walked off now. I guess she didn't notice you pulling me aside, but she couldn't have gotten far."

"Why on Earth do you wanna follow her?"

"She's helping me. Wasn't the plan to make friends with the humans? Did you?"

Cleo rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't say that. My guy could have died, but I didn't let that happen, and that was apparently good enough for us to call it even. I don't kill him and he doesn't kill me."

Deuce took her hand and stuck his head out of the fence opening. He called, "Petra!"

Cleo shushed him urgently. "They'll hear you!"

The girl's voice called back. "Hello?!"

"Over here!"

Deuce turned back to Cleo and gave her a reassuring look, as if he could sense her displeasure. "I promise, she's on our side. I wouldn't be with her if she wasn't."

  
Cleo frowned and squeezed his hand as the girl, Petra, approached them. She was wearing Greek armor, sporting a helmet over her mousy brown hair and lugging a shield and sword on her back, but all of it looked a size too big for the girl herself. She was _short_.

Petra looked to Cleo, and then back to Deuce. "Is this Cleo?"

Cleo cocked an eyebrow and smiled smugly. "So you've heard of me."

The shorter girl stuck her hand out to shake, looking over her shoulder apprehensively in the direction she and Deuce had been walking. She said, "It's great that you're here. You can come with us."

"Where are you taking Deuce and I, exactly?"

Deuce interjected. "Her friend Lilith's house. She thinks she may be able to hide us there until we can figure something else out."

"Ugh, Lilith van Helsing? I've been hearing her praises all day from passers-by. She's Hellscream's niece, so not exactly someone I'd want to meet right now."

Deuce's smile faltered. "Hellscream's niece?"

Petra gestured for them to follow her. "I promise, it'll be fine. I trust her. She's practically my sister, and even if she won't help us, she won't rat you out. She'll probably just tell me to take care of it myself." Her expression darkened, and she gulped. "We have to get moving."

She continued walking, looking back to make sure the monsters were following. Cleo was unconvinced, and Deuce's trust in Petra seemed to be shaking, but they followed her, hand in hand. They didn't have much of a choice, and she was their best bet.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should mention I changed Petra's crush in the previous chapter to another OC of mine instead of Brooke. The other OC was my original intention for that, and I decided to change it back since, the more I thought about it, the more I liked my original pairing. Just making sure you guys are up to speed!
> 
> This particular chapter is something I've had written since 2016! Can you believe how slow I work?

Three monsters were missing in action.  _Three_. And a  _hero_ , to boot.

Administrator Van Helsing and Headmistress Bloodgood were sitting in the headmaster's private viewing room, watching the stories from the window in the elevated room. The man's blood pressure was through the roof.

Over the past few hours, he had become more and more restless, taking chances to pace and fume every time he got one. He couldn't tamper with the stories from the outside once they had began. The only time that had _ever_  happened in the history of the arena was a fluke. He  _knew_  it was.

He was powerless to stop what they were doing without raising suspicion from the public, aside from telling all of his guards to patrol the city, but he hadn't heard back a single thing yet. How hard could it be to track down a bloodsucking vampire and her lackeys?

If he didn't find the monsters (hero be damned - her father would deal with her), everything he had ever done would be for nothing. All of his efforts shattered like glass in the span of a few hours.

Bloodgood kept her composure. She wasn't expecting this turn of events, but she tried not to let on that she was excited beyond belief. Her head had nearly fallen off several times by now

She held her head aloft in both of her hands, lifting it to get a better view of the screen. It was the sea monster's, Lagoona's, turn now.

Van Helsing sighed when he noticed what she was doing. "Would you please place your head back in its proper position."

"I'm comfortable this way."

Van Helsing growled, "I find myself caring very little about what makes you comfortable. At least make it look me in the eye when I speak to it."

The way she was holding her head meant that her hands were over her ears. She tried not to smirk. "What's that? Couldn't hear you."

"You're acting like a child."

"A child, you say? You mean like the children in the arena?"

"If you know your place, monster, you'll hold your tongue."

"It's not just the monsters, Archibald. The heroes are children, too."

Van Helsing exhaled through his nose, and Bloodgood saw a vein on his neck slightly protrude as his blood pressure clearly rised. She would have smiled if she wasn't watching her students fight for their lives.

Glancing out the window to the left of the room at a group of soldiers heading into the city, she could only hope they had found somewhere safe to hide.

* * *

Lagoona lingered in the water, peeking her eyes out from the surface while her hair fanned around her head. She heard, and felt, a deep thumping coming from the shore; it sounded like music was underlain with it, but she had never heard music like this before.

She had been biding her time in the water for fifteen minutes now, but she knew she had have to get closer to the shore. Eventually. She could stay submerged forever, but part of the plan was to try and talk to their heroes, and she could see a group of humans moving their bodies to the rhythm on the beach.

Well, some of them were - the ones that weren't dancing were hitting a ball back and forth over a net. Or sitting around a fire they had made. Or sneaking off behind a tree, hand-in-hand. It didn't matter what they were doing; the point was that they were humans.

It was impossible to tell if they were supposed to be Lagoona's heroes, though; they just looked like they were having fun. Not much in the way of heroics going on.

She took in a deep breath of water through her gills. She would need to plan this carefully. Scaring them would do her no good.

It would help if she had showed up in some cute clothes, or a swimsuit. She had nothing but the scales on her back – and torso, and arms, and legs, and everywhere. Not that she really needed clothes - she never had, but she wore them anyway because the uniform was mandatory. She thought she looked like this one picture of a movie character humans called the Gill Man; she saw him in a magazine, once. Everything she needed to be covered was covered by plates and scales. The difference between her and the Gill Man was that she was a blonde.

But a nice outfit might make her a bit less… shocking. Humanize her more, as much as the term made her stomach churn.

As the music pulsed, she thought of Frankie and the others. If they were here, they would tell her to just go for it. The mere thought of being able to see the others when she got out was enough to get her arms and legs in motion.

 _The worst that'd happen is them running for the hills. They don't even have weapons,_  she thought as she approached. _At least I think they don't._

The closer she got, the louder the music got, and the more unsure Lagoona became. She considered slipping under the water, but surprising them wouldn't help, either. All or nothing.

If she were out of water, her hands would have been shaking. The cool, down-to-earth Lagoona Blue (as described by Frankie), shaking.

She heard an unfamiliar voice from the beach. "Look!"

She stopped in her tracks and saw the humans stop their activities, twisting their heads around to find what they should be focusing their attention on. A girl knee-deep in the water was pointing at her. "Not on land, you assholes! In the water!"

All of the humans' faces were now on Lagoona. She held her webbed hands up. "Wait! Hear me out–"

A second girl with dark skin and curly black hair thrust a fist in the air. "The monster's here!"

The people didn't sound scared. They sounded... excited? But why? What?

A chorus of "whoo"s and "whoop"s and "yeah"s rang throughout the beach, and the girl who had noticed Lagoona first was making a 'come over here' gesture. Lagoona hesitated, and then obliged.

When she got to the waist-deep water, the girl called out, "We were waiting for you, you know. My name's Brooke."

Brooke put her hands on her hips in a relaxed way and studied Lagoona. "Wow, sick! I've never met a monster in person. But you've probably never met a human, huh?" She let out a laugh that was more confident and clear than anything Lagoona had ever heard, her jet black hair shining in the sun.

Lagoona replied, "Just van Hellscream."

Brooke chuckled at the nickname. "That guy has a stick up his ass. These humans here are much more likable, if I do say so myself."

Lagoona felt like sprinting, but stayed where she was as Brooke approached her. She asked, "What's up with your hands? Are those like webs on duck feet?"

Lagoona's left hand was suddenly being reached for, and when Brooke grabbed it, the sea monster instinctively flinched it backwards. The only time anyone ever touched her hands at all was if they intended to slit the webbing so she couldn't use it; this happened on a regular basis, since it always began to heal itself. She looked at the water in slight embarrassment.

Brooke looked confused for a second, but brushed the reaction off. "You've got the gnarliest eyes. They're so big! In a good way, you know."

"I dunno, everyone else's seem kinda small to me."

Brooke laughed at this, and Lagoona smiled and breathed a shaky sigh of relief. She guessed she had lucked out. She asked, "So you guys aren't afraid?"

"Not really, no." Brooke pushed back a section of her wet hair that was stuck to her face. "Quote unquote 'heroes' of our kind don't really have any rules, so we can watch what happens in the arena before our story. Since all we have to do is party, you know? We figured we'd all try and make friends, since everyone else was. And look! We're friends now."

Brooke took both of Lagoona's hands, gentler this time, and Lagoona let her. The two of them smiled at each other, one with a beaming, welcoming grin and one with an entirely bewildered (but not unhappy) face.

Brooke pointed over her shoulder. "Karaoke is gonna start soon, and we've got hotdogs on the grill. Oh, and a couple surfboards if the waves get big enough. You're welcome to hang and do whatever until this whole story thing ends."

Lagoona felt her adventurous side rising to the surface and her anxiety sinking like a rock. Her eyebrows raised. "Karaoke? Sounds wild …what on Earth is it?"


End file.
